Victory
by tiedwithblackribbon
Summary: Erik ruins the lovers' plans as he takes Christine down to the depths of the opera for the last time.
1. Down Once More

***The story begins when Christine is on stage at her "last performance". Raoul has planned to take her away from Paris, from Erik forever. However, our phantom has different plans**.

The gas lights seemed to be doused quite quickly by some unseen force. And then became lit again in an instant. Christine was gone! The monster pulled her to the depths of the opera by use of a trap door on stage.

"Let me go!" She cried, his hand painfully grasping her wrist pulling her along his side. She tried desperately to free herself, his grip only becoming stronger, tighter.

"You have betrayed me for the last time!" He ignored her pleas, pulling her down faster, the lantern in his other hand.

"Please, Erik…please…don't do this!" She screamed, her sobs threatening to choke her.

"You are mine! Don't you understand?! You were going to leave without a word with your precious boy, were you not? Not even a goodbye or a note? That boy has poisoned your mind against me!" He stopped abruptly and spun around on her, Christine's back uncloaked to the stone walls.

She screamed and his gloved hand was instantly at her mouth. "No one can hear you, my dear…not even the rats! It is a waste of sound…and you'll ruin your voice…" He said coldly, keeping a hold of her. "Now, come…we have a wedding to attend…" Letting go of her for a second his grasp was on her wrist and he continued their journey to the lake.

"W-Wedding?" She whispered in a quiet sob.

"Yes…our wedding…I daresay you didn't think I was bringing you down all these flights of stairs for nothing? I intend to make you mine, forever…the God you love so much can bear witness to this grotesque act…" He sneered, picking her up as if she were light as a feather and gently placing her in the boat.

She began to cry, tears flooding her eyes, her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands as she felt him push off the shore. He was silent, his eyes upon her nearly the whole journey to the house. He couldn't bear it when she cried, but he knew he could not show any remorse this time…she had to learn.

As soon as the boat pushed up against the little beach, Christine was startled, revealing her tear stricken face, now red from crying. Her breath was still wracked with sobs, though her crying ceased. Erik quickly removed himself from the boat, reaching inside to pick her up effortlessly. She knew she could not fight him…and win. Instead she indulged him by continuing to sob, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Shhhh…" He soothed finally, entering the little house. He silently went to the end of the house, Christine's room. There on the bed was the wedding dress, layed out perfectly for her. She put her head up to see where they were and at first glance spotted the beautifully made, lacy white gown.

"Erik…" She whispered, tears spilling over her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching her small hand to his cloak.

"Come now Christine, brides are supposed to be filled with tears of joy…a blush at their cheeks…"

"Why are you so cruel?" She cried aloud at him, making him set her on the bed.

"Any cruelness I show you tonight I learned from you, mademoiselle…now…put the dress on…"

"Leave me!" She cried, sulking into her pillow.

"I don't think so…you might try to harm yourself, or worse…put the dress on…I promise you I will not look…I am a gentleman after all…am I not?" He turned his back on her, eyes gazing at the floor beneath him.

She continued to cry, once in a while drawing in a shuddering breath.

"There…I am finished…" she whispered, her eyes once a beautiful blue now dark and filled with angry tears. He turned slightly, his cat like gaze seeking out the perfect contours of her body…the dress fit her perfectly.

"You…are so beautiful…" He said, his throat suddenly dry. "But wait…you forgot to tie the laces in the back…" He walked slowly to her, his hands coming to her shoulders, turning her gently so that her back faced him. She could not meet his eyes at that contact, and instead stared ignorantly at the adjacent wall.

His hands were instantly at the laces, tying quickly and skillfully. An unwanted blush spread over her cheeks as his no longer gloved hands brushed against the sensitive skin below the back of her neck. He could see traces of her chemise beneath the fabric of the dress and he felt as if his blood were boiling.

"There now…much better…." He turned her again slowly to face him, her eyes to her shoes, still the costume shoes from Faust. She felt a cold bony finger touch barely beneath her chin, lifting her face to meet him. She couldn't help but be taken in by the gold specs that were his eyes, so beautiful and pained at the same time.

"Now, my bride…" He took her hands and she instantly struggled to free herself. His grip tightened and she cried out in pain. "Calm yourself, child…you know I wouldn't harm you…"

"You hurt me even now!" She cried still trying to escape his touch.

"Only when you are fighting me, my love…never intentionally…" He said gently, loosening his grip on her as she calmed. "Even if you were to free yourself from this little house…you could not find your way back up to the opera…it is very dark and there are many different little passageways you could choose. And besides…we wouldn't want you to fall prey to one of my little traps, now would we?"

She drew in a trembling breath, unsure of how to react. She shook her head, her eyes wandering back to the floor…afraid to see his eyes.

"Christine…" He reached in his pocket, pulling from it the small gold ring he had given her before. "You are my wife…and I your husband…"

"Raoul will come for me!" She squeaked, turning from him, her whole body trembling in fear.

"Let him…he will die before he even reaches the lake…" He spun her around, and she gasped, taking her left hand and placing the ring on her finger. "You are mine now…"

"Legally I am not yours, you...you monster!" He let go of her. She tried to remove the ring but it would not budge!

"While that is true…you belong to me…as I said…your precious God could bear witness to the crime…"

"Don't bring God into this…we didn't get married by a priest, or in a church…even in God's eyes I will never be yours!" She said boldly, afraid of his reaction as soon as she stopped her tongue.

"That can be arranged later on, my dear...now…what is that happens after a real priest confirms the two lovers husband and wife? Ah, yes…a bridal kiss…" He whispered, nearing her.

"Never…" She whispered, feeling herself drift backwards to lean on a post of her bed.

"I know you have always been concerned with propriety, my sweet…but as we are husband and wife…there is no wrong in it…" He stepped closer to her, his voice becoming her once Angel's voice.

"Please, no…" She cried almost inaudibly.

"All I want is one, simple kiss, Christine…is that so much to ask on our wedding night?" He was inches from her body now, his own form towering over her. She looked up at him slowly, thinking to herself that one kiss now would be better than…And she thanked the heavens for not letting him force himself entirely on her. A kiss…such a simple gesture.

She closed her eyes in acceptance, feeling his hand caress one of her cheeks. She could feel the burn of her blush meet his icy fingers and the sudden sensation made her open her eyes. As he slowly bent to meet his lips with hers, she shut her eyes again to block everything out and instead was surprised by what she felt. The feeling of his gentle lips closing over hers was a jolt of electricity that pulsed through her. His cold hand still at her cheek, guiding her mouth upwards to meet his. It lasted only a brief second before he pulled away slowly. Christine opened her eyes, her lips fevered and her blush an even more hellish temperature.

"My Christine…" He whispered, his hand now traveling through her long gold locks, returning to her reddened cheek. "Thank you…"

She opened her mouth to speak but could not find the words. Her mind was spinning and she felt faint. When Raoul had kissed her…it was just a kiss…a gesture of affection. But Erik's kiss, she compared, was like a drug…a poisoning dose at that. She felt weak and her knees were shaking, it frightened her to feel what she felt from a man she supposedly hated.

"Come, it has been a tiring night…you need to rest…" And in an instant she was in his arms, being carried to her bed. He layed her down gently, and she seemed to melt into the covers her blonde hair covering the pillow.

"But…my dress…" She whispered, finally words coming from her throat.

"Here I will untie the laces so that you may sleep…otherwise you may remove it tomorrow…after you've slept." He slowly untied her from the corset, thinking to himself that only if she was truly in love with him he would be removing the entire dress at this time of night. He pushed the vulgar thought from his mind, finishing. He removed her shoes and she started.

"It's alright, Christine…" His voice sang. He brought all the covers about her shoulders.

Christine lied frozen in the sheets, her small form trembling. The kiss still affected her. She was sure he could still see the blush at her cheeks and her trembling lips.

"Are you cold, my dear? You are trembling!" He fetched another blanket, though he knew it wasn't the reasoning behind her shaking. She nodded in reply.

"Don't be afraid of me, Christine…" He said softly, sitting next to her. She moved her head to look at him.

"I'm not afraid…" She whispered in reply. _I am afraid of what you do to me!_

"Oh, I think you are…but you needn't be…you must trust me…I may be…a monster…but I will never stop loving you…my heart will never stop beating for you…" He barely caressed her cheek again.

She closed her eyes again at the sweet contact of their skin. She was so exhausted! And then she heard him begin to sing to her…a sweet lullaby he had first sang to her as an angel. He watched as she relaxed under his touch as he began to sing, her pulse slowed and sleep taking hold of her.

He stayed there, beside her, caressing her hair back, touching the softness of her cheeks, her lips with his fingers. He now knew the true feeling of happiness. She belonged to him.


	2. Morning Newspaper

Christine, whom was in a deep sleep, suddenly opened her eyes with a gasp, sitting up in the bed. She looked down, the pure white dress still as perfect as ever. She lifted her left hand to find the ring still there. It had not been a dream….rather, a nightmare.

A lone candle burned in the corner of her room, casting shadows on the walls. After so long she was still afraid of the dark. What time was it? Had it only been a few hours? Days? She could never tell down here in the pits of hell.

She smoothed her hair over, still sitting up in the bed. She slowly removed the covers, stepping out of the bed carefully, immediately her skin raised with gooseflesh at the cool air.

Her closet was in one corner, which she eagerly opened to find a different dress. A blue one, simple, her favorite. She set the dress on the bed hurriedly, undoing the few ties and buttons at her front.

"Aren't you going to tell me to leave?" Erik's voice startled her. She jumped at the sound and covered the small openings at the front of her dress.

"For God sake! I didn't know you were here…" She whispered, now trembling, her heart pounding.

She raised her eyes to wear the candle burned, Erik rising out of the shadows.

"Please…leave…" She turned from him, another unwanted blush at her cheeks.

His own face was hot underneath the mask. She would of never have known he was there! He cursed himself for a moment for giving himself away, but then realized that only becoming a gentleman around her would lead to any sort of positive feelings from her in the future.

He silently ignored her, turning around. "I was just about to wake you, my dear…It's near ten in the morning…"

Her heart sank. Raoul didn't come. What if he had tried? What if he was hurt…or dead?

A sob choked her and she stayed silent, less she give away her emotions and anger him.

"Are you…hungry, perhaps? We did have a trying night, didn't we? Although I hardly slept at all…"

"You…stayed in this room all night?" She shivered, finishing the ties at her front.

"Yes…of course…" He whispered, turning around to face her.

She looked up, finding him staring right into her eyes.

"Wedding gown or simple attire…you are still so beautiful…" He said gently, coming toward her with heavy steps.

She stood still, fighting the urge to back away from him. Christine knew he could sense her fear and she tried desperately to stop trembling, to look him bravely in his eyes.

"Come, wash your face and meet me for breakfast…" He said happily, taking her hand and kissing it. Her expression met his unchanged, the fear in her eyes betraying her.

He left her in silence.

Like in a trance she stepped towards her wash basin, freshening her mouth and washing her face and hands. _What if he wants to kiss me again tonight, or asks more of me?_

She stared at her reflection in the only mirror in the house. She was beautiful, even after so many tears! A blush still lingered on her face, terrifying her to know that he could see it. _Well, I won't let him touch me…ever!_

And what of Raoul? Should she dare even ask Erik? No…she couldn't. He would probably tell her out of pride! She swallowed, leaving her room and entering the small dining room, a little table and two chairs. She took a deep breath not realizing she had been holding it.

"Ah! There you are…please…sit…" He pulled a chair out for her and she sat obediently. This would have to be the game she played with him. He brought fresh fruit, breads, jellies, butter…it was a heavenly breakfast! Her mouth watered, even though her mind told her not to eat it.

"Please, Christine…eat…for me…"

_I'll eat because I am hungry…not for you! _She took some fruit on her little plate, a piece of bread and some butter. Her stomach churned, both from intense hunger and nausea.

Erik sat opposite her, staring.

"You are going to watch me?"

"I like watching you…studying you…It is a habit I seem unable to break…I have watched you for years….and now you are right before me…"

She took another deep breath, nibbling on her bread. 

"Why now, does it make you uncomfortable?" He asked, his eyes still on her.

"You took me from the only world I knew…and now…I am to be a prisoner in this house!" She cried out, fighting back tears.

He squeezed his fists closed. "You didn't listen to me, Christine…I told you if you betrayed me again…it would be the final time…after all I have done for you! Given you! You repay me by running away with your lover? Tsk, tsk…I thought I taught you better…" He rose from the chair, Christine pressing herself to hers.

"But that is the past now, my darling…" His arms were behind his back as he stepped forward, like an angry teacher at his student. 'Even though…I am sure you wondered what happened to your dear ex-fiancé…."

She immediately looked up to him, anger now making her tremble. "He came for me…didn't he? He's dead…isn't he…" She stated rather than ask.

"Oh no, my dear…quite alive. On his way to London, I suppose…" He looked down at her finding pleasure in her reaction.

"London? But…why…why would he-"

"He left you…don't you understand?" He barked, now behind her.

"How do you even know this?" She stammered, keeping her gaze downwards.

"This…" He magically made a newspaper appear and smacked it on the table in front of her.

**OPERA SINGER DISAPPEARS, FIANCE BOARDS SHIP TO LONDON**

**RAOUL DE CHAGNY SUSPECT IN DISAPPEARANCE**

She was silent. The tears did not come, as if she half expected it.

"Daroga purchased it for me…for proof for you…I know you wouldn't believe me yourself…"

"Why do they not blame you? Everyone has to know it was you who took me…"

"Why then would your beloved immediately be bound for another country? It seems…Meg boarded the ship with him…"

Her heart seemed to stop. She gasped, her hand over her mouth dropping the paper.

"Do you see now, Christine…what I've been trying to tell you along? He only loved the idea of your fame…your beauty…not you. "

She began to cry, her hands over her face. Erik took her by the shoulders, standing her up and embracing her.

"Forgive my words, my Christine…It is the truth…and you have to accept it…" He caressed over her hair, the feeling of her so close to him making hold her tighter. Her little body trembled with sobs. He let her cry on him, savoring the feeling of her while it lasted.

"Hush, my love…shhhh…" He whispered, one hand tracing up and down her spine. He could feel her breathing slow, her body seeming to press against his without tension. The smell of her hair was intoxicating to him.

"I..I thought..h-he loved me…" She whispered, clutching Erik's shirt. The smell of Erik's cologne seemed to relax her and she felt it strange to be in his embrace and feel so content.

Erik stayed silent, cursing the boy in his mind for causing Christine so much pain…yet relishing in the feeling of victory.

"I will never leave you, Christine…" He whispered to her, his hand still caressing her hair and her back. She closed her eyes against him, his touch which used to make her cringe with fear now warm and soothing.

"I don't expect you to love me today or even tomorrow…but you will come to love me…you will stay with me now, happily?" He asked, his own voice on the brink of emotion.

"Y-yes…" She shivered as she spoke, half of her face lying on his chest as they stood. He took her by the shoulders again, both of his hands sliding up to her face. He wiped her tears, and she thought for a second he was going to kiss her again. Instead he kissed her eyes, her forehead, and her hair. She started to cry again, burying her face in his neck.

"Please, do not cry….you know I can't bear to see you cry!" His hand came into her hair again, the softness and smell of it nearly driving him mad.

"Forgive me, but I must!" She begged. Meg? Meg, Raoul? How on earth could of all this happened while she slept? Her heart ached…for her loss of Raoul…and to her new life with Erik. Where else could she go?

The laudanum worked quickly in her tiny veins. She was fast asleep in mere minutes. She was near having a panic attack and he had to do something!

He watched her, flooded with guilt, as she slept. He closed the door to her room, not locking it. Placing his cloak about his shoulders and getting his hat, he left the house to meet Daroga.


	3. Childhood Fears

"Well, do you have him?" Erik yelled to the shore as the boat docked.

"Yes…Erik…do you know what you are doing? Surely you've shattered the poor girl! Let her go…let them live their lives!" He yelled back. Erik jumped from the boat.

"Not another word about "their lives"….where is he?"

Nadir led Erik to a cavern within the catacombs, revealing a bloodied Raoul bound with heavy rope sitting on the stones. His mouth gagged with cloth. He started to scream and yell at the sight of Erik, the torch Nadir carried casting a glow on Erik's mask.

"Oh calm yourself, boy! I know how you desperately tried to come down here last night…but you got caught in my traps didn't you? You were lucky…not to be killed."

He crouched very close to Raoul, memorizing his perfect face.

"Don't you worry about Christine, now…she is safe with me…I'll be sure to take care of her to the best of my abilities. Such a sweet and noble girl! " He sneered, taking the cloth from his mouth.

"You bastard! Let her go, for God sake! Kill me if you must…but please…free her!"

"Such a brave young man you are, monsieur! To be willing to die for her…I was hoping you would say such a statement!" He put one large hand over Raoul's throat.

"Erik!" The Persian gasped, almost putting his hand on Erik's shoulder to stop him.

"Not another word from you, Nadir…I must finish this once and for all…"

"Please…" Raoul choked out. "Let her go…"

Erik's grip on him became stronger. "That is up to me to decide, Raoul…she is mine…and in fact…she thinks that you are on your way to London now…with Meg on your arm!"

"You would have to make up such a story...to make her love you!" He gasped.

Erik let go of him, letting him fall limp to the floor. Raoul sucked in a violent breath of air, coughing and choking.

Again, Erik crouched down next to Raoul's helpless form. "If you ever come down into my cellars again…I will personally kill you…no trap could do to you what I can…"

"You cannot win, Erik…" Raoul breathed.

"I already have…" He laughed, walking away from Raoul's battered body.

"Blindfold him…and take him back to the surface…and if I ever catch you down here as well…I shall give you the same fate as monsieur…"

"But, Erik! I..I saved your life once…you cant do this!"

"And I thank you, monsieur…now leave my wife and I in peace!"

The newspaper had been a clever trick….one not so hard to come by if given the right amount of money. Erik rowed quickly to get back to his bride, silently thinking of new traps he could lay for Raoul…he knew he would be back.

"Christine…" She heard his beautiful voice call to her. "Christine…"

She stirred, opening her eyes slowly to find Erik sitting by her on the side of the bed, his hand caressing her hair. Still half drugged, she was silent, unable to cry, scream or speak.

She closed her eyes again at his touch…still confused by the sensations it caused her.

"Wake up now, my child…I've brought you some tea…it will make you feel better…"

He helped her sit up against the headboard, handing her the tea. She sipped it willingly, letting the warm soothing liquid calm her. No more tears, she thought to herself. It will only anger him…

"There…good girl…" He spoke softly, as if she were a little child. He had forgotten how young she really was in comparison to him. She was nearly twenty…and he was reaching his fifty-second year.

"I'm hungry…" She whimpered, almost a cry.

"Of course, my dear…" He took a plate of the tea tray, filled with biscuits and cheese.

"I won't watch you…" He whispered, getting up from the bed.

"No…please, Erik…stay with me?"

He raised an eyebrow behind the mask. "Why?"

"I am afraid of the dark…there is only one candle…"

'There is nothing to fear from the dark, Christine…" He said, sitting back with her on the bed. "It is more inviting than sunlight, you know…it is safe, warm and can hide anything you want hidden…"

"Childhood fears…I still haven't gotten over them…" She whispered, sipping her tea.

"You will…I promise…" He said, taking her empty plate. 'Are you feeling much better?'

"Yes…I believe so…" She said in a small voice, still confusingly frightened and intrigued by him.

"Good…that makes me very happy that you would say so…would…you like to come out into the drawing room? I've made a fire…and there is much more light…"

"Yes…I would like that…" She climbed out of the large bed, smoothed her dress and found Erik's hand outstretched to her. She took it, hesitantly, and his firm grip on her hand made her swallow the lump in her dry throat.

He led her out of the room down the hall into their little drawing room. He motioned for her to sit on the larger couch, while he sat in the smaller chair.

She found the flames of the fire to be hypnotizing, and she stared into it.

"Would you like me to read to you?" He asked, his angel's voice coaxing her to look at him.

"Yes…" She said, looking over at him. Her blue eyes seemed to pierce his soul when she looked at him, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. He wanted so badly to kiss her…kiss her deeper than he did the first time…those lips…so sweet! He had a small taste of her…and the hunger for another taste coursed through his blood. She must of seen the fervent desire behind those gold eyes, for she tore her gaze away from him.

This is what frightened her most of all…the sheer intensity, power that he held over her.

Ashamed of his thoughts he brought a book forward from the table and began to read.

Is this what her life was to become? Quiet days and evenings with him…eating the food which he never ate himself…reading books, singing music…Isn't this what her dream was to be?

She was consumed within her thoughts, not hearing him say her name.

His ice touch brought her out of her daze, his fingertips at her cheek. She turned to look at him, realizing he was now sitting beside her. She shivered, swallowing back her fear.

"What's the matter, Christine?" He asked gently but concerned. He let his hand fall back to his lap from her face.

"I don't know….I feel strange…" She breathed, feeling afraid and aroused at the same time from that simple touch.

'How so, my dear?" He asked frowning.

"I..I can't explain it…" She stammered, unable to find words.

"You are afraid of me…when I touch you…when I am near you…" He stated, testing her as he rose his hand up to her chin to turn her to face him.

"Yes…afraid…" She whispered, caught in the net of his golden gaze.

"Why, my love?…I won't hurt you…" He left her chin and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"I know you won't…" She said almost inaudibly, his voice so beautiful she could only concentrate on it.

'Then? Why do you shy from me? You are blushing…" He almost smiled. Only making her blush more she looked away from him, her breathing becoming faster.

"Are you afraid…because my touch pleases you?" He breathed, his face unbearably hot beneath the mask.

She only nodded in reply, unable to look at him. She closed her eyes, feeling ashamed.

His heart skipped a beat at that simple nod. He never thought such small gentle touches of his hand could effect her so much. He noticed each time he caressed her that she would blush—and his kiss…He couldn't help noticing how she reacted to him…her breathing scarce…her little pulses racing. His living, breathing bride!

Most women would have fainted at his death's touch, but not Christine…

"Oh, Christine…don't be afraid…don't be afraid of pleasure…"

She felt as if her face were to burst into flames. "Erik…" she whimpered, her eyes still closed.

"It frightens you…that by nature you were born to hate me, look down upon me…and yet you desire my touch…you do not love me…yet you secretly yearn for me…"

She exhaled, after holding her breath. How could he know all the secret turmoil in her heart?

"I love Raoul…and…I never felt this feeling before…" She breathed heavily, almost in a sob. Tears stung at her eyes.

"My Christine…" He whispered, wiping her tears. She opened her eyes, their lips so close. He pressed against her, their lips crushing together. A moan escaped her lips and it nearly drove him mad!

He layed her gently down on the couch as he hovered over her. Their bodies dangerously close. His lips coaxed her mouth to open to him, letting his velvet tongue slide between her lips. Another moan from her throat.

His hands were all over her, her reddened cheeks, her hair, down her throat, over her her breathless he left her lips, moving down her jaw to the pulse at her neck. She instinctively clutched to the back of his shirt.

"Erik…please…"

"Please, what?" He breathed at her throat.

"It is too much for me…please…" She whispered, as he stole her breath away with his kiss. He slowed his passion and broke the kiss gently, lifting himself off of her.

So innocent…he thought. He could barely control himself!

"Forgive me…" He whispered, sitting them both up. Christine, now pulsing with desire, sat breathless beside him.

"This is wrong…" She said, her voice shaking.

"No my love…it is very right…what you feel is a normal response to what I do to you…and what I want to do to you…"

She shivered at his words, her gaze drifting back to the fire.

"I suppose you will expect a proper wedding night then…" She said, finally bringing her eyes to meet his.

"I don't want anything more than to consummate our marriage, Christine…I've thought about making love to you…for a long time…a kiss I may steal from you…but…I will never force you to my bed…" He kissed the inside of her hand, her fingertips brushing the mask.

The mask…once it had been why she was afraid…then to see his face behind that mask…she was relieved now when he had the mask on.

She felt her fingertip shaking as his lips caressed the skin of her palm.

"I love you…" He whispered, the fire crackling in front of them. She sucked in another breath of air, her eyes still fixed on his.


	4. Spider

***Thank you everyone who has read and reviewed!! Will continue to update as much as possible. This chapter has a little recreation of Kay's novel when Christine finds a spider in her room. Enjoy! I Do Not Own Anything!**

A week had passed. Thoughts of Raoul and Meg entering the city of London and starting their life together consumed Christine's thoughts. Their beautiful life above, in the sunlight. The darkness here frightened her, not just the endless black night of the underground…

It had been a week since that most passionate kiss…He had not tried to kiss her like that again, in fear his own actions would swallow him whole…taking control of him. That was the last thing he wanted…to hurt her…to prove to her that he really was a monster.

He read to her, almost every night after his grand suppers, watching her on the little couch drift off to sleep. He would be eager then to place the book down silently, picking her up and putting her to bed. Oh to touch her! And for her not to shrink away!

While she slept on all those nights he had stayed with her, with her knowledge of course, hidden in the shadows. Most nights she would even gasp awake from a nightmare and he was there immediately there at her side to comfort her.

He had hoped all these little efforts of his would seek a different pleasure in her…one of marital happiness…so that maybe one day…she would come to him, willingly.

On one particular night, Erik had put Christine to bed, anxiously returning to his organ where Don Juan still sat, unfinished. He was determined to finish the damned thing within the year. One night without the sight of Christine he would have to sacrifice.

As she was asleep, he never played his music…just wrote the notes down. He knew exactly how it would sound if he really had played it, and thus did not want to wake her at the late hours.

He took the huge manuscript of music to his desk…He couldn't write a single note that night. Don Juan was about deception, mystery….all of which he knew quite well…but it was also filled with passion, ecstasy…pleasures of the flesh….all of which he knew quite well, in his mind…How could he ever write the passion into his music never truly experiencing these feelings himself?

"Erik?" A little voice whimpered. Erik turned around to find Christine at the door, a thin robe tied around her to hide her chemise. The image of her sobered him from his stupor.

"What is it, my dear?" He whispered, almost frustrated.

"I'm…sorry for disturbing your composing…I couldn't sleep…I think there is something in my room…I felt it…crawl over me…" She shivered.

He laughed. "Probably a spider, then…unfortunately they are always down here…"

"Oh…" She said shakily, hugging her arms. "I am quite afraid of them…"

"No need to be, Christine…they won't hurt you…and although they might appear grotesque they are only living out their little lives, aren't they?"

"Yes…but…I can't bear it when one touches me…you have to…put it out, please…"

He got up from his bench, walking past her into her room down the hall. She swallowed dryly as he returned, the beastly thing in his handkerchief. He walked past her again and let the thing out the front door.

"There…better now?" He asked, touching her arm. She turned around to face him.

"Won't it come back, Erik?" She asked as a frightened child.

"That's not very likely…now…let's get you back to bed…" He whispered, turning her by her shoulders like a puppet and walking her to the room.

He had lit another candle for her to sit by her bed, knowing it might ease her fears a little.

When they entered the room, he allowed Christine to enter first, closing the door after him. She turned around anxiously.

"I will stay until you fall asleep…"

She nodded silently, turning from him and untying the robe, letting it glide across her shoulders, down her back and finally rested in one arm where she hung it on her closet.

He felt the need to turn around, but did not.

Her chemise was terribly thin, allowing him to view the gentle curve of her hips. He breathed in cautiously.

Knowing his eyes were on her she covered her chest as best she good while sliding beneath the sheets of the bed. He was there to bring them up to her chin.

"Now…get some rest…I want you to start singing again tomorrow…it's been too long for me not to hear your voice…" He sat next to her, caressing her soft blonde hair back from her face.

"I will never sing…at the opera again…will I?" She asked, a sad tone in her voice.

"That would be too dangerous for us…and I can't have anything interrupting our life together anymore…you will sing for me now, only…"

Her eyes drifted to the candle, again drawn to its flame. She stayed silent, giving him no reply less she lose her tongue and make him angry. He continued to softly stroke the long locks of her hair. At one time his touch had repulsed her…but now she took a strange comfort in it…knowing he truly did love her. She was just like him now…only one other person cared for her.

But did she really care for him? He had abducted her from the very stage! Her thoughts immediately ran to Raoul…perhaps Erik had saved her from all of the embarrassment. Maybe it was better for her to have "disappeared" and never to be seen again.

Her whole life as she once knew it was gone…forever. A feeling swelled in her, begging her to cry. She closed her eyes, concentrating on his touch…how his cool fingers trembled, yet guided so much care and love into his caress. Maybe Erik was not as frightening as he seemed…he was just a man, after all.

That night she dreamed of the night her father passed away. She was only seven, clutching her father's hand at his bedside. An endless stream of tears washed her face as he took his last shuddering breaths. "When I am in heaven, child…I will send the angel of music to you…"

She remembers someone tearing her away from him after hours of holding his lifeless hand. She screamed and cried, "Papa, I won't leave you!" She panicked, almost gasping for air and finally fainting. At the wake she remembered walking up to his black coffin, placing a kiss on his cold cheek. And then with a loud bang the coffin was shut.

Christine awoke with tears down her face, screaming. As soon as she had bolted upright in her bed, Erik was there to catch her in an embrace. She sobbed into his chest, both of her arms around his back.

"Shhhh…Christine, it was just a dream…" His hand glided over her hair, feeling her hot tears run down the opening of his shirt. Her sobs calmed, although he could feel her body still gasping for air. He only held her tighter!

"I'm here…I'm here…" He whispered, his hand moving down her hair to slide down her back.

"Papa…I miss him so much…" She cried, her breathing struggling to regain a normal pace.

"Hush, now my love…I know you do…but he is…in heaven now…watching over you…" He himself had never believed in a heaven, at least knew he would never be going there….but knew it would calm her to talk of her father that way.

"Shhh…." He hushed her, near rocking her in his arms, leaning her back against the pillows, her small hands still clutched to his shirt.

'Don't leave me…" She sniffed, keeping a hold of him.

"I won't Christine…I promise…" He touched her red cheek, smoothing away the last few tears.

"Lie next to me…I feel so alone…" She whispered to him, genuinely afraid.

He was surprised by her request but nonetheless did what she asked of him, sliding beside her on the bed. She lifted herself up a bit, shifting to lay her head on his shoulder, her little fingers curling around the opening of his shirt.

His face behind the mask was sure to be blood red, his heart racing. Instinctively he snaked his arm up so that his hand could caress down her arm. They had never been this close for such long period of time!

Bravely he reached for her hand, kissing her fingertips. She pressed herself closer to him, making him embrace her a little tighter.

When her breathing was slow and regular he knew she was finally asleep. Lifting her gently off of his shoulder onto the pillow he turned on his side to face her. So close!

He had only dreamed of being this close to her.

Did he dare place an innocent kiss on her sleeping lips? He couldn't help himself to that temptation…her lips so sweet, warm…inviting.

He inched closer to her, hearing her sigh in her sleep. He felt as if his whole body was on fire. The rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed! He let his eyes painfully extract themselves from that image, covering her more with the blankets. He neared his face to hers, smelling her sweet breath, his mouth near watering in anticipation for that taste!

His lips gently reached hers, barely touching them. She seemed to smile in her sleep, sighing as she shifted. He backed away nervously, only to be content again when her arm slowly came back to rest on his chest.

She was still asleep, yet she wanted his embrace! That night, he slept with her in his arms, finally sleeping after many nights of restless thoughts about his new bride. He smiled, knowing that she was on the right path to finding him in her heart.


	5. Don Juan Triumphant!

"We have to do something!" Raoul screamed, sitting in his chair as a little maid removed the stitches at his brow bone, having smacked it against cold stone in the catacombs as he was suspended by one of Erik's traps.

"I don't know what to say to you, Monsieur…" Nadir stated in his heavy Persian accent.

"Erik would have changed all the traps by now…if I know him correctly…" He stood straight and tall at the Vicomte's door.

"Thank you…" Raoul whispered to the maid dismissing her from the room. "That bastard has my fiancee! What would you do? Just give up on her?! Not me, my friend!"

"You will die if you try and get to them…he is a master illusionist, Monsieur Vicomte…he can make you take the path he wants you to take…make you terribly lost in those catabombs never to be found…or worse…be killed by one of his contraptions!"

"I don't care…I have to try…" He breathed, afraid for his beloved.

"He is dying, monsieur…" The daroga quickly replied, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"All the better!" Raoul shouted, putting his small dagger in it's sheath.

"Well…if he dies…she will be free…allow them a few more weeks…" Nadir said quietly, not able to meet the young boy's face.

"Allow them a few more weeks? Whose side are you on, man? I am not going to let him win this little game of his! And I am not going to succumb to that beast's happiness!" He slammed his fist on his desk.

"I cannot help you!" The daroga retorted, his voice edged with pain.

"But you can! You were his friend for all these years…his guide…you went down there more than anyone…you must know an alternate route!" Raoul got up from his desk chair.

"I did, Monsieur…and since have tried to get back down that way…Erik has changed the path…I know it is full of his magic!"

"Listen," Raoul calmed. "It has been a week already…who knows what the bastard has already done to her! I have to save her…you must help me…friend or not…you must!"

"He wouldn't harm her, monsieur…I assure you…"

"Yet he would abduct her right off the stage and pull her into his hellish world? Who knows what he is thinking? He is mad…he could of snapped? Oh my poor, Christine!" He whimpered, calling her name aloud.

"Monsieur, please…I…I do know of someone who may help you…"

At first when she came out of her deep sleep, her eyes still closed, she could smell his cologne. And then she felt his warmth beneath her head. Her heart lept in her chest, opening her eyes slowly to find that she was lying on his shoulder. Their faces, mere inches apart.

Erik was asleep. She had never seen him asleep before…in fact, he never slept. Her hand rested over his heart and she could feel it beating beneath her. His breathing was slow and even, his eyes, closed and hidden in the shadow of the mask seemed so at peace. It was the first time she had really seen him as…a man.

Why was she in his strange embrace? His large hand still rested across his chest on her arm. He was so warm! She had never felt him this warm. He was always cold when he touched her. And then she remembered her nightmare…

A tear came to her eye, not because of another remembrance of her father's death…but the gentleness that Erik showed in caring for her. He understood nightmares, she figured.

Her hand curiously traced up his shirt to his face, rather the mask…caressing it as if she were touching his actual cheek. He stirred, and she snapped her hand back to curl next to her own body, no longer lazily over his heart.

Her eyes winced shut, pretending to be asleep as she felt him shift beneath her.

"Christine…" He whispered, one finger tracing the curve of her cheek. "I know you are not asleep…"

She opened her eyes hesitantly, instantly looking directly into his golden orbs.

She felt the urge to bolt from the bed into the next room, being far from him as possible, yet his hand had come back to rest on her arm…secretly bonding her to him, keeping her frozen by his otherwise warm touch.

"I…didn't want to wake you…" She said calmly, though her heart was uncontrollably beating. He must have sensed her anxiousness, removing his hand from her arm and shifting on his side so that she was lying on the pillow… instead of him!

"You were going to remove my mask…"

"No! No…I wasn't…I..I just…"

"You just…what?" He lifted her chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes.

"You…looked so calm…peaceful….I wanted to…touch you…" She shivered, 'I promise you that I will never remove your mask again…unless you ask it of me…"

"You…wanted to touch me?" He asked in disbelief, "Why?"

"Last night…you showed me so much kindness…you comforted me when nothing used to comfort me after that dream…"

_Does she feel some ounce of love for me? _He thought to himself.

"You were very upset…It pains me to see you so distraught…" He whispered, propping himself up on his elbow to look at her…still unbearably close!

She felt her face flush a bit. "I'm sorry if I was too forward in asking you to stay with me…beside me…"

"No, Christine… do not be sorry for this…it makes me happy to know that I made you feel safe…I want you to trust me, my love…" He breathed, bringing her hand up to his malformed lips. A surge of guilt shot through him. Not only had he deceived her once as her angel…but now he had performed the ultimate deceit, tricking her into thinking Raoul was off with another woman. Yet, he was instantly calmed, knowing that Raoul would never make it to their little house alive.

She stayed silent, watching as he kissed the back of her hand, biting her bottom lip.

"I can try, Erik…I…want to trust you…" She felt him squeeze her hand.

"I will wait an eternity if I must, Christine…" He whispered, his fingertips grazed her cheek. "Come…let's get you some breakfast…and then…you can sing for me once again…"

Their breakfast went the same as it was always did. She ate nervously, while he watched her.

"Erik…where do you get all these foods and supplies?" She asked quietly as he took her plate from the table.

"Nadir…the Persian man…he would help me from time to time to get things I needed…"

"What happened to him? Why doesn't he visit you now?"

"That is of no importance to you, my darling…" He said gently, moving into the small kitchen.

"Oh, I'm sorry…"

"It's alright…now come with me…to my room…I want to show you something…"

She nodded, following him hesitantly. She had only visited his room a few times…the first time when he had first brought her here to his little house. She had fainted at seeing his bed, which was a black coffin…The room was decorated almost as a funeral parlor, complete with black hangings on the walls, fresh flowers and of course the massive pipe organ in one corner.

The room to her now, was still unnerving. Erik had drawn the curtain around his bed, so she wouldn't have to look at it, and she thanked him silently. It was still deathly dark, a few candles lighting where his music was on the organ.

"Come…" He motioned for her to step closer, Christine finding that she had frozen midway walking into the room.

He took her hand, leading her next to him at the organ. She stood shakily beside him as he sat down at the keys. Memories of the first nights here flooded her…how she sang her soul out to him…how he begged, pleaded with her to forgive him for his little farce of being her "angel"…how she had torn the mask from his scarred flesh…

She shivered.

"I finished the duet between Don Juan and Amnita…I wanted to show you…perhaps, we can sing it together?" He asked, turning the pages to the manuscript.

"Yes…" She said almost nervous now, wringing her hands together. Why was she so nervous around him?! It both annoyed and frightened her the affect that he had on her body. How could she refuse his music? She had to say yes! Even though she knew the tragic story of the two lovers.

"First I will do some scales with you…It's been days since you used your voice this way…and the part of Amnita is very…passionate." He breathed, looking up at her.

She nodded in reply, unconsciously taking a deep breath. She finished the scales without difficulty, occasionally Erik telling her to fix her posture and stand straighter.

"Good…good…you sound warmed up now…I will play the aria for you…and then you may sing…Stand closer…so you may see the words…." He said calmly, playing the first furious notes of the score.

Her skin jumped with gooseflesh and her heart began to beat fast. This was unlike any "opera" music she had ever heard. This music was from the depths of Erik's soul. It scared her…for this man to have so much anger and passion just brewing inside of him…waiting to boil over.

"Begin!" He shouted, Christine taking her first breath of the song. It was beautiful! She sang the lyrics of the lovestruck Amnita about her cloaked lover. Erik stopped.

"We must do this part again…but this time…Christine more passion! This is about a woman who is in love! In love with a man who has tricked her into believing he is someone else for his own gain…but she is unaware. From the depths of your soul you are consumed by all that is him! Do you understand?" He said fervently but gentle.

"Yes…" She said timidly, trying to find the passion in her that she found with Erik. Passion that she kept subdued in her heart…afraid to really express it with him. She wasn't supposed to love someone like Erik! This is not how all the storybooks ended!

She began again, this time closing her eyes. Remembering the first time she saw her _angel_ behind the mirror. The love she felt! And then the previous night when she found warmth in Erik's arms.

"Stop, Christine…" He ceased his hands from playing not looking at her.

"Have I done something wrong?" She whispered, afraid he was angered at her. It was his music…he must have a particular way that he wanted her to sound.

"No, Christine…no…" He got up from the bench coming close to her.

"Your breathing is just a little off…are you alright?"

Christine swallowed. "Yes…I am fine…"

He touched her bodice. "Breathe from here…stronger…this is a very trying role, Christine…but I know you are capable of it…"

Even though there were many layers of fabric separating their skin, Christine felt his warmth on her. She inhaled a shuddering breath.

'I…I don't know this passion, Erik…I'm sorry…" She flustered, turning from him.

He stepped closer, her back to him. He took his hands and put them both on her shoulders, sliding them down her slender arms. She closed her eyes in reply, her body frozen with chills.

"Must I teach you everything?" He breathed, kissing the sensitive skin below her ear.

She could hear her breath leave her body, shivering beneath the tingling of his kiss.

"Erik…" She whispered, her eyes opening as she felt an arm come around her, making her lean against him, her head resting at his shoulder once more. His other hand came to rest on her bodice, sliding upwards barely touching the tops of her breasts. She seemed to melt into him, her body swaying, her mind almost under a spell ready to succumb to anything he asked of her.

She felt his warm breath on her neck, placing small, gentle electrifying kisses to her soft skin.

Her flesh tasted divine to his lips! Caressing her, the sound of his name, it was near all too much for him. This beautiful woman in his arms, alive!

"When can I make you my wife…?" He whispered against her neck between kisses. Desire burning in his very soul. Christine's face turned scarlet, her skin warming.

"I am your wife…" She breathed.

"You know what I ask…" He growled, turning her to face him. She could not meet his eyes, soon feeling Erik's finger lift her chin so she could look at him.

"I…I don't know, Erik…" She trembled, Erik letting go of his grip on her a little.

"You are still afraid of me, aren't you?" He whispered, "Can you not see I am just a man like everyone else? But I am not like everyone else am I…but a man just the same! I am not an angel, nor a ghost Christine…a man…a man who loves you deeply…more than anything in this world. Even second to music!" He gave a faint smile.

"I…I'm not ready…to be so intimate with you…" She breathed out, letting herself fall into his embrace. The feeling of her resting on his chest surprised him. He curled his arms around her pressing her against him.

"Please tell me, Christine…that you care for me…even love me, perhaps?" He asked stroking her hair.

"I care for you Erik…I do…but I will not lie to you and tell you that I love you…" She whispered in tears, afraid for some odd reason he would strike her.

He took his arms from around her and pulled her away from him. His hands still on her delicate arms. "Please, don't be upset ma cherie…mon ange…"

"God, Erik…I want to love you…so very much…" She confessed, tears flowing.

He swallowed behind the mask, listening to her words in disbelief. "Let your soul free, Christine…I can make you the happiest of women…I can give you anything you desire…do anything you ask…please…please just love me…even if just a piece of your heart belongs to me…I will die a happy man…"

She threw herself in his arms again, crying silent tears into his shirt. His arms came around to her back once more, snaking over her waist.

"I..I want to be a good w-wife to you, Erik…I really do…" She realized, forgetting Raoul and Meg altogether. Erik could give her anything she wanted…music, passion, desire and of course the love they both craved.

"You already are, my love…my wife…" He repeated, caressing her flowing blonde silk tresses. "I won't force you to do anything you don't wish to do…I promise you…"

"I…want to come to you…willingly…" She whispered. God, this was turning out to be a confession of sorts!

"Oh, my love…I will wait forever and a day for that sweet night…"

She pulled back from him, still close to his masked face. With a faint smile she sniffed, a small hand caressing his black hair back. "Will…a kiss do for now?" She whispered, looking up into his shining eyes.

"Of course, mon ange…" He whispered, letting her take his horrid face in her hands, closing his eyes. The feel of her gentle lips stirred so much passion and desire in him! She was so careful, maybe not sure what to do. His palm came up to cup her cheek, pressing his lips to her with more pressure, helping himself to the taste of her. Her hands slid down to his shirt, unconsciously clutching it with an unknown strength.

Erik had always said Don Juan was a dangerous music. She had never understood…until now.


	6. No Longer Afraid

He watched her sleep, as he always did, that night. Carefully tracing her curves with his eyes, jealous of the very sheets that clung to her, he sat cautiously at her bedside, dutifully prepared to comfort her when she awoke from another nightmare.

God, he knew nightmares himself. He hardly slept because of them…

_I shouldn't of played that music for her…she isn't ready for it…any of it…_

Silently he edged from her bed, going out into the little hallway not closing her door all the way. He made sure a few candles were lit for her, in case she did indeed wake from her dreams. Why must he always have these thoughts of her? His pure, little Christine…although it was easy to imagine her writhing beneath him!

He cursed himself, removing the mask and splashing what seemed to be ice water on his face. _She had tried to touch me this morning! What can I make of that? She must love me…even if it's only a little…_

Was this normal to think of such carnal desires all the time? Was this primal cloud of desire that fogged his thoughts the most human he had ever come to be? It disgusted and enraged him to think of her as some common whore! But how could he not think of it?

He loved her with every terrible fiber of his existence, he assured himself. But why such vulgar and vivid imagery's? Why this internal torment he subjected himself to?

He had to blame his Don Juan for all of this. Whom else could put such thoughts even in his head…or perhaps Christine's? He shuddered at the thought of her thinking such things about him.

Never had he felt any woman's touch. Not even of his own mother's embrace! He would die a thousand death's to feel that child's hand on his scarred flesh! That simple caress of his mask and the bit of flesh not covered by it had been seared by her! He was good at faking sleep, and when he felt her shift beneath him and begin to caress him it was near undoing to him. He had to shift his own body so that she would be frightened away…

Even her small caresses and inexperienced kiss could drive him to the point of insanity. He couldn't give in to it…not now…less his inability to control these desires welling up inside him take over…then he would be a "true" monster.

The overwhelming want to taste her lips nearly made him topple over, finding himself back in her room without even knowing how he had got there. Did he walk there? Or float? Did he even leave the room at all? He couldn't remember!

All he could concentrate on was the angel lying before him. Uninhibited, calm…not frightened nor trembling. A living breathing angel…that was his!

He kneeled at her bedside, hearing her sweet breath leave her lips, her breasts swelling with every inhale of air. Her head moved slightly, a sigh escaping her lips. He was holding his breath, temptation drawing closer…winning.

_So beautiful…_

He pressed his malformed lips as gentle as he possibly could to hers, at that moment of sheer need. So gentle it didn't interrupt her breath, nor her sleep. Still kneeling he pulled back slowly from her mouth, the urge to just rip off her chemise and take her in his mother's bed overpowering. He closed his eyes, resisting the urge to scream at his own body for reacting so cruelly to him.

"Erik?" A small whisper in the dark.

He opened his eyes, finding her sitting up in the bed, a look of confusion and terror upon her sweet innocent face.

The mask…

Erik covered his face as if any more vision of it would poison Christine to death.

"Forgive me…forgive me…" He cried, angry at his own tortured soul. What was he so forgiving for? For letting her look upon his deformed skin…the kiss…taking her from the light above the cellars? He didn't know.

He didn't hear her move from the bed, and in instant she was kneeling beside him on the wooden floor, her hand, trembling, coming to touch his shoulder.

As if a child to his mother, without giving her another glance of his face, he turned and pressed his cheek to her chest, hearing her rapid heartbeat. Christine swallowed nervously, her arms coming around him.

"Erik…" She whispered, her fingers coming up to caress his black hair. She could feel him shaking in her arms, tears running from those once beautiful eyes! "Shhh…" She hushed him as he had done to her many a night.

She rocked him gently, beginning to sing a lullaby. One that her father had so often sang to her to make her sleep.

Erik clutched himself to her thin chemise, all at once ashamed and relieved. _She didn't pull away from me! She's holding me now…singing to me! I don't deserve this…_

"Come, Erik…come lie with me…I will still hold you…" She whispered innocently.

"I don't deserve you, my child…" He whispered, his voice still powerful even in the midst of tears.

"Please…I want to make your pain go away, Erik…" Prying his hands from his eyes.

"No! Please…don't look at me…please…" He pleaded, covering his face again.

She kissed his hair, his forehead, the fingers that covered his face. Seeing him so vulnerable was new to her…a different side of him revealed.

Finally she brought him to stand, on unsteady feet, bringing him into bed with her. Her face flushed as he nuzzled next to her breast, his fingers tangling in the sheer fabric of her chemise. She held him for a long time, continuing to sing to him.

"Erik? Are you asleep?" She whispered, her fingers combing through his hair.

"How can I sleep when I lay upon an angel? I want to savour this forever…" He whispered in reply, his hand sliding down from her side to her waist holding her tighter.

Bravely, and boldly he lifted his head up to face her, the only candle left burning giving his terrible features a warm glow.

A surge of…love hit her? Her hand came down from his hair to caress a scarred cheek, Erik's eyes closing at the sensation. When his eyes opened, she could almost see the desire beginning to boil within him.

"You…are not repulsed by my cursed face?" He whispered shakily.

"No, Erik…at one time I was afraid…but not now…" She continued her caress of his deformed flesh, memorizing every line, every contour.

Her small hand burned on his skin. No one had ever touched his face….at least not as so gentle and…loving…as she had.

Slowly he brought himself to be hovering over her, their eyes never leaving one anothers.

"Don't deny me any longer, Christine…" He whispered gently in her ear, leaving her no time to protest as his mouth was on hers.

A shy cry of pleasure escaped her throat, making him add more pressure to their lips' embrace. His tongue quickly parted that sweet mouth, delving into her, tasting her. His skillful hands sliding up from her waist to hold her mouth to his. She did not fight him, desire stirring in her as well, letting him do to her what ever he wanted.

His lips left hers for a moment, grazing over her cheek, jawline and to the sensitive skin of her throat. His hand drifting over the ties of the chemise.

"Do I please you, my love?" He growled against her flesh, moving his lips and tongue to her collarbone.

"Yes…" She breathed, her eyes closed, her hand once again tangled in his dark hair. He groaned, devouring the sensitive flesh at her shoulder. The chemise easily slipping down so that he could do so.

They both seemed to be trembling…not used to all of the exquisite contact of another.

Mixed emotions for Erik confused her…She loved him…or maybe it was pity? No…she desired him…cared for him…hated him? What was it that she felt? His dexterous fingers tangling at the ties of her shift made her sober from her drunken, desire filled thoughts.

She gasped, her hand coming down on his to stop him. "I…I cannot…" She breathed anxiously.

"Oh, Christine…you know that you want me to do this to you…your mind is screaming at you to let me…but is your heart willing?"

"My heart always tells me no when you touch me…I can't trust it anymore…" She gasped again as his hand ran across the tops of her breasts.

"You want this…as much as I do…I see the want in your eyes, Christine…you are afraid…afraid of the unknown…" He said softly, respectfully removing his hand from below her throat, sliding it back up to meet her blushing cheek.

She swallowed, finding it hard not to be caught in his gaze. "Yes…" She whispered, just before his lips found hers again. He could drink from those lips for an eternity!

He layed at her side, bringing one knee to rest just between her legs. His own desire evident to her, making her blush a deeper crimson. His hand was still holding her porcelain face, the skin so warm beneath his death's hand. He could feel the heat from her on his knee, making him kiss her all the more deeper, the taste of her not satisfying him completely.

She sucked in a shuddering breath, breaking the kiss, turning her head away, only for his lips to kiss and lick at her neck…sending shivers down her spine.

"Erik…" She whimpered, wanting desperately for him to be off of her…inside her…she didn't know what she wanted! She felt his leg over hers, so close to her, their body heat near unbearable.

"What do you want, Christine? What do you want me to do?" He continued his trail of kisses on her neck and throat. His hand sliding down from her cheek, down the curve of her breast to rest on her hip.

"I..I-I don't know, Erik…"

"Please don't tell me to stop…I don't think I'll be able to…"

This both frightened and aroused her, knowing full well he could take her at any moment if he really wished to. What was stopping her? Raoul…he was gone…happily, with Meg.

Erik…a man…loved her completely…to the far reaches in his dark soul…He wanted her…she wanted him…He was her husband now…and she his wife.

Maybe it was the little girl in her…that always dreamed of the big white wedding…with all the fine details…her handsome husband…sweeping her off her feet…

But this was real life. She was not about to let her childhood dreams affect their lives, as it would never be. In truth, she had wanted a husband to love her unconditionally, forever…and now she had one.

She placed her trembling hands on his scarred face, the skin rough beneath her soft fingers. He stopped kissing her, letting her guide his face up to look at her. She found his golden specs easily, finding them darkened with desire.

"What is it, my love?" He whispered, his hand coming up into her hair, caressing it back.

"Be gentle with me…"


	7. Madame Giry

Antoinette opened the door to her flat, eyes widening to see the Victome and Nadir standing there. Their gloved hands removed their hats.

"Madame…may we come in?" Raoul said kindly.

"What do you want?" She snapped in her heavy French accent.

"Madame…we need to talk to you…about…Erik…" Nadir spoke softly.

"Is…he dead?" She asked, a sadness in her voice.

"No, Madame…" Raoul replied before the daroga had the chance. "Now, if you please…we haven't got much time…"

She backed away from the open door, allowing the two gentleman to enter. Shutting it behind them she told them to sit in the drawing room.

"Meg!" Antoinette yelled up the small set of stairs.

"Yes, mother?" She answered coming down the stairs, seeing the daroga and Raoul, stopping mid-step. "What is going on? Where is Christine?"

"That's what we've come here to talk to you about, Mme Giry…" Nadir shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Meg, dear, make some tea for the gentlemen…" She quietly edged Meg into the kitchen.

Meg obeyed, not questioning a word.

"He has her…still…in his underworld!" Raoul shouted, unable to keep calm and collect any longer. "If we don't do something….God knows what will happen to her!"

"To calm your fears, Monsieur Vicomte…he wouldn't harm her…" Antoinette said, a little fear showing in her voice.

"Why do you all say this? How can you be sure? He has murdered before! Oh God…" He almost was hyperventilating, lifting his weak form off of the chair to pace.

"Monsieur! Please! I know him well…and so does Nadir…he loves her…he wouldn't do anything to hurt her!"

"All of your knowledge of that beast aside…what are we going to do about Christine? The monster has already changed his traps twice!"

Antoinette looked over at Nadir, who was silent.

"Do any of you care of Christine's well being rather than I? You act as if we should best leave this little situation alone! She's my bride! My future wife! Not that cursed demons!"

"Please, Monsieur…let's talk rationally now…please sit…" Nadir said finally, motioning for Raoul to take his seat.

He ignored the daroga, "Unless…Madame…you know an alternate way to get to him.."

"No…I don't…I always went the same way as Nadir…there is no alternate way…"

"I don't believe you…" He sneered, looking back to catch her frightened eyes. "Christine is innocent in all this! We have to get her out of there!"

The was a grand silence. Meg came into the room with the tea tray, her footsteps light as she passed Nadir a cup first, then her mother.

"Monsieur?" She whispered to Raoul.

"I don't want anything, thank you…" He turned from all of them. Meg returning to the kitchen to continue listening beyond the door.

"Do you really believe Christine is in a lot of danger?" Nadir asked politely.

"Of course she is! That bastard will never let her go…not now…"

"What do you mean?" Antionette asked, placing her tea down on a side table.

"Christine and I…we were supposed to leave…for London that night he took her…He must of found out…She was supposed to go back to him and tell him…but I persuaded her otherwise…thinking it best she never speak a word of our eloping to him…for I knew then he would take her. She betrayed him…it is my fault…"

"No…none of this is any of your fault…you have to understand my young, Vicomte…Erik is in love with her…he has never loved before!" Madame spoke.

"You mean obsessed with her!"

"No…He _loves_ her…she is the only woman in this world who has shown him kindness…besides what I could provide him…She looked upon his face in terror….but…accepted him…and I am sure she accepts him still…"

"She does not accept him!" Raoul shouted, beginning his pacing steps again.

"Don't deny that she does, Raoul…you know it to be true…perhaps with her it isn't love she feels…just…pity…"

"I will go after her myself if you two do not help me…and if I die in the process it will because of my love for her!" He grabbed his hat, storming for the front door.

"Monsieur…wait!" Meg called from the kitchen, bursting from the door to follow him.

"I will help you…" She said softly, meeting his gaze and touching his shoulder. "I know the way…"

***Sorry no Erik and Christine goodness quite yet…still working on the next chapter! Thanks for reviewing!**


	8. The Candle

***** The chapter most of you have been waiting for. I know I have…LOL…read and review. This is my real first attempt at a decent love scene..be kind!**

Those words, so beautiful from her lips, "Be gentle with me…"

Erik swallowed, "Oh, Christine…I promise I will be…" He nearly had to choke back tears at the realization that she would finally be his! He continued to caress her blonde locks out away from her face, his hand eventually turning so that he touched her warmed cheek.

She left his stare, her eyes looking down into nothing. She could feel the gooseflesh over her arms and legs as he touched her face, moving down to her throat, the tops of her breasts swelling at the edge of the chemise.

She whimpered as she felt his lips graze her neck once more, nerves building in her at the anticipation of her submission to him. She turned her head, relishing the sensation of him at her throat, her eyes wondering to the lone candle in the corner of the room. She had always been drawn to the flame…

To hear that soft whimper from her delicious lips made his desire even more evident to her. God knows she had a spell on him! The skin of her neck and collarbone was soft in contrast to the rough malformed lips that caressed and kissed it. This was surely a sin.

He lifted himself from her for a moment to rid of his shirt, tossing it carelessly on the floor beside the bed. Immediately he was back hovering over her, his lips now dangerously drifting to the edge of her chemise, a hand coming back to untie its laces.

She stiffened beneath him, never having revealed her body to anyone before. He sensed her anxiety, resisting the urge to rip the confounded fabric. With the laces untied, she closed her eyes, not realizing that she was clutching the sheets at her sides as tight as she could.

Surprisingly she felt his lips return to hers, his body almost lying on top of her.

"You are giving me the greatest gift, Christine…" He whispered, his warm breath giving her chills. "I love you so much…" He nuzzled her neck, a trembling hand grazing over her covered breast, parting the fabric so that he could place his hand inside.

She gasped as she felt his warm hand enter the chemise, gently cupping her breast, his hand exploring the soft skin, his thumb occasionally flicking over her nipple.

"Erik…" She said shakily before he stole her breath again, his tongue gently parting her mouth.

"Shhhh…don't be afraid of this…give in to pleasure Christine…there are many ways I can make your body sing…" He groaned, moving his lips cautiously down to the opening of her chemise, tasting the delicate flesh of her breast.

She moaned in her throat, her breathing erratic. Her hand was now fisted in his black hair, a foreign feeling burning in her lower abdomen.

When he heard her moan in pleasure he lifted himself off of her again, gently removing the entire chemise. Her breasts were fully revealed to him, a thin blanket covering the rest of her.

"Goddess…" He whispered, returning to her breast with his hungry mouth, a hand caressing the other. He felt her hand leave his hair, tracing down his neck to rest on his back. She could feel the traces of old scars, some deep as if in the past they had been a serious wound, others light scratch like marks. Her heart ached for his troubled, wicked past and she ran her hand over those scars as if she meant to heal them.

Her eyes were shut tight, concentrating on the feeling of him devour her. He quickly turned his attention to her other breast, nuzzling, kissing and tasting her.

"My teacher…" She blushed, her eyes still closed.

"I can teach you many things…" He whispered, kissing between her breasts moving down her slim form to her stomach. His hands caressed her waist, hips over her abdomen. She shifted beneath him, her body wanting to accommodate his touch. He kissed down to her navel, shredding the bed of its blanket, revealing her beautiful hips, legs and what lie between.

She felt herself trembling, her hands coming back to clutch the fabric beneath her.

"Christine…" He whispered in a husky desire filled tone, a finger gliding across her cheek. She opened her eyes turning to look at him, with somewhat pleading eyes.

"Y-Yes?" She whispered in reply, her voice giving away her fear.

"Please…don't be frightened…If…I do something you don't want me to do…or I hurt you unintentionally…you may stop me…" He kissed her forehead, over her eyes and then lastly at her lips, gentle at first then adding more pressure as his hand wondered over her breasts, her waist and then teasingly at her inner thighs.

He parted her legs, noticing they were shaking. His long, skillful fingers came to stroke her sensitive flesh finding her incredibly warm and wet.

"Erik!' She gasped, only to be silenced by his lips. She cried out in her throat, the sound making it to his ears.

"Shhh…let me touch you…" He whispered lovingly, knowing she was nervous. "Let me please you…"

With another moan escaping her lips, he let a finger slip into her. Feeling her tighten and stiffen at the entry.

"Relax my love…breathe…" He whispered, moving his lips to her neck. He wanted to hear her moans…to know…he…the Phantom…was pleasing her…something that boy could never wish to do!

She felt the extreme pleasure build and build secretly, uninhibited. Her body met his hand willingly, her hips moving, writhing at his touch.

She felt his tongue over a nipple, his fingers inside her, his thumb brushing against her center making her quake with ecstasy. Just when she thought the waves of pleasure could not reach higher, he slid down her body eagerly tasting her flesh where his hand stroked.

Christine cried out, feeling his tongue explore her. She felt her whole body wash with an unknown warmth, her limbs nearly frozen in place. The pleasure kept building until her body was wracked with pulses that she never knew existed, a feeling she could never describe.

'Erik…Erik. Erik…." She cried out his name over and over, not noticing he had stripped of his trousers and was now hovering over her.

"I've wanted to make you speak my name like this for a long time, my angel…" He smiled, pleased with himself that he could do that to her…and affect her in such away. Her entire body was red from blushing, trembling.

A few years in Persia could grant you such an extensive education.

"Now my love, I make you mine…forever…" He whispered, giving her heated body a shiver.

"It's going to hurt…" She said, afraid.

"Maybe a little…but I promise you…it won't last…" He kissed her on her lips, placing himself at her center.

She could feel him press against her thigh, his manhood terribly warm and hard. The feeling of his size made her heart beat even faster, clutching on to him as he lowered himself on her.

"Erik?" She whispered, feeling him rise up on his arms to meet her gaze.

"Yes, _mon ange_…?" He was near panting with anticipation. _Please don't tell me to stop…_

"I…I love you…" She whispered, her hand coming up to touch his marred skin.

His heart nearly stopped. "You…you do?" He asked, tears stinging at his eyes.

"Yes…I think I always have, Erik…I just never believed it until now…Erik, make me your wife…" She brought her lips up to his in the most innocent of kisses.

"You've made me the happiest of men, Christine…" He said, shivering at her sweet kiss.

"I love you too…"

His lips closed over hers, stealing her breath. He entered her with a swift thrust, finding her unbearably tight. Her eyes winced and then shut at their union. She cried out in pain, Erik caressing her face, breasts….anything to distract her.

"Forgive me…" He whispered, wiping a tear from her face.

She opened her eyes to meet his. He kissed her again, moving in her slowly, praying silently in his mind that her pain subsided. The last thing he wanted to do was harm her further…

"Oh, my Christine…my Christine…" His voice angelic as it once was all those months ago. She clutched on to him tighter as he moved faster inside of her. The pain edging away as pleasure replaced it. Her hands went to his deformed face, guiding his lips back to hers. She was so sweet! He would send his already damned soul for all the pain in the world to be able to kiss her.

She felt his full length inside of her, not only pleasuring her…but giving her the real sense that they were one. She moaned with every increasing thrust, the pleasure now building back up to that unbearable level. Not yet wrapped in his own pleasure, he took notice of Christine's cries, moans, expressions of ecstasy. That lone candle in the corner casting beautiful shadows on her as he took her. He loved her so much…this was no longer lust…but the ability to be apart of one another…to be one rapid beating heart, one glorified soul. Only her soul could bring some light into his!

"Erik…" She whimpered in unison to his groans, her body climbing that steep mountain once again. To hear his name on her beautiful lips, that angelic voice that he first fell in love with, sent him over the edge. He plunged into her, taking his own pleasure into account. She trembled beneath him, her heart like a wild bird in a cage. He cried out one last moan of bliss before slowing his pace, his untamed hands seeking her soft skin, his head burying in her neck.

"God, I love you Christine…" He whispered, almost collapsing on top of her. He lay down at her side, his head resting on her breast. He could hear the slowing beat of her heart as they lay in silence.

A seemingly long time passed, Christine caressing his hair and face as he lay content upon her. The lone candle almost extinguished. He propped himself up, thankful that the candle's light was dimming, not to flood his face with light.

"Are you feeling…alright?" He asked, helping himself to touch the soft, still pink flesh at her cheek.

"Yes…" She gave a faint smile.

"I know…I hurt you…" He said concerned, trying to read her face.

"I'm alright, Erik…it didn't hurt for long…just like you said…" She said innocently, closing her eyes as his fingers curled in her hair.

"My sweet Christine…" He whispered, more for himself to hear. He took her hand, kissing each of her fingers.

"You always used to tell me how pure and innocent I was…when you were my Angel…" She whispered, smiling.

"You still are…to me…" He whispered back, edging closer to her to kiss her lips.

"What we just did is not so pure and innocent!" She giggled, Erik silencing her with his lips again. Slowly withdrawing from her for a moment to look into her eyes.

"You said you loved me…"

"I meant it…" She whispered, "I do love you…"

"Did my pleasing you have anything to do with this new found love in me? Only earlier you said you only cared for me…"

"Erik…I've always loved you…I do realize that now…I just…denied it from myself…"

"Because of him…" He whispered, looking away from her gaze.

"No…not because of Raoul…I first fell in love with your voice as my angel…and then…when I found that you were not an angel…I panicked…I was frightened…The control you had over me…the power you held over my voice…it all frightened me…I was scared to even think of loving you….but I do, Erik…I love you…" She said, tears welling in her blue eyes.

"I wanted so desperately to come to you that night…that Raoul and I were to leave…he begged me not to come…he was afraid for me…I was supposed to come and give you an answer…even if the answer was no…and I didn't…."

"I couldn't let you go, Christine…I had to do something…I have no reason to live without you…"

"You were so angry with me that night when you brought me here…I…for a moment…I thought…"

"I was going to hurt you? Or worse?" He whispered.

"Yes…" Her eyes drifted, feeling Erik's hands wrap around her.

'That is something I could never do…I always want you to be my beautiful, content Christine…you are my wife completely now…my life is devoted to your happiness…"

"I…I just couldn't believe what Raoul had done…it shocked me…and Meg? I had no idea…I've lost a dear friend…" Her breath caught in a sob.

An invisible dagger stabbed Erik right into his heart. He had deceived this child more than once for his own gain…didn't he owe her some happiness? He was sure he could do so…but…if she ever found the truth…it would end him.

"Your life has taken a very changed route…I can understand your silent pain…but you have a new future now…with me…" He laid back at her shoulder, his arm coming to rest across her abdomen holding her waist.

"Yes…maybe even perhaps one day…we may go above…at night of course…maybe for a walk?" She whispered, her hand stroking his face.

"Yes…one day…I will take you above…You are like the rose, Christine…you need sunlight, the fresh air…I only hope that I become the water you need to live…as I need you…"

She kissed his head gently in reply, closing her eyes letting sleep consume her. He laid there a long time, guilt paining at his heart.

As soon as he had closed his eyes, a loud noise woke them both.

"What is that?" She whispered, afraid, watching him leave her embrace to dress.

"The alarm…for intruders…"


	9. Forgive Me

"We aren't far from the little house now…I have only been down here twice…with mother of course…but I remember the way…" Meg said in a hushed voice, Raoul following her steps. She held a lantern high into the darkness to light their way.

"I only pray Christine is safe and unharmed…" He replied, his focus entirely on how he was going to possibly retrieve her from Erik's possessive demeanor. His pistol locked at his waist he sighed a breath of nervous relief.

"I do as well, Monsieur…" Meg whispered, coming upon two tunnels in front of them.

"Oh my lord…"

"What is it?" Raoul asked, taking the lantern from her and shining it on the two entrances.

"I…I don't remember which way…oh God.." She panicked, looking over at Raoul as if he somehow knew.

"You must remember!" He almost shouted at her, becoming more frustrated.

"I think it's the right…Oh, Monsieur…it was so dark last time…I can't be sure which way Mother pulled me…it was many years ago…"

"Damn you! Christine could be dead for all we know!" He screamed, taking her by the wrist forcefully and leading her down the "right" path.

"Intruders? But…who?" Christine whispered, sitting up in the bed bunching the sheets up to cover herself.

Erik was already half dressed, sitting on the bed to slip on his black boots. He didn't answer her.

"Erik!" She exclaimed, as he got up swirling the cloak around him.

"Hush, Christine…just stay inside this house…do not come out in this darkness…it could be dangerous for you.." He said sternly, coming over to the bed just for a moment to kiss her forehead.

"But…"

"Shhh…I'll be back…it may be a false alarm…an animal or something…sometimes that happens…now…please lie down and rest…"

She closed her fevered lips, lying back against the headboard.

"Good girl…I will return shortly.." He said, hurridly sheathing his sword and exiting the house.

She lay in silence, her heart racing. What if the intruder found his way to their home? And Erik wasn't here? What if Erik was hurt and she couldn't find him in these dark catacombs!

She drew in a deep breath, getting out of the bed and slipping on a night shift. Silently stepping out of the room to the den she went over to the fireplace, grasping the heavy iron rod used for wood. She sat in front of the fire, waiting.

"Monsieur…this doesn't look like the right way at all!"

"Quiet yourself!" He snapped, letting go of her and walking at his own pace down the narrowing corridor. "Shhh! Do you hear that?"

"No monsieur…I hear nothing…" She whispered, trying to stay quiet to hear something, anything.

"Water…we must be close to the lake! Or at least some kind of water that leads to the lake! "

"Keep your other hand to the level of your eyes Monsieur…if we are indeed close…there maybe traps!" She trembled, wondering what ever possessed her to come down here. Christine…she loved her dearly as a friend…and Raoul…poor Raoul!

He could hear their whispers. He felt as if his blood were to boil from his veins in anger. That damned boy! And Antionnette's girl as well! He couldn't very well harm her!

He saw the pinch of light from their lantern, hiding himself in the comfort of the darkness.

"For God sake, Meg! I just want my Christine…" Raoul cried out.

"Well, you won't live to see her if you don't do as I say!" She retorted, looking down from his glare.

Just then with the next step Raoul took they both fell through the floor, down into a deep stone hole. They both screamed, the lantern quickly breaking and leaving them at the bottom in total darkness.

"Oh god! We are going to die here!" Meg cried out, reaching for Raoul.

"Are you alright?" he asked, feeling her hand grasp his own.

"Yes…I am fine…just…so afraid.." She began to sob, clutching onto him.

Erik quickly lept from his hiding spot, lighting his torch.

"Ah, Monsieur…so good of you to drop by.."

"You! You god damned monster! Where is my Christine! What have you done with her?" He screamed up the hole, seeing the gleam of a black mask.

"If I were you Chagny I wouldn't worry of Christine…I would worry for my own head at this moment…"

"Please, monsieur! Let us out of this abyss!" Little Giry cried out, Raoul closing a hand over her mouth.

"Hush girl or you will get us killed!" He whispered, feeling her sob under his hand.

"I could do that…let you go…just so that you can try to come back to my home again…steal my bride…try to murder me…it does sound tempting…"

"Don't mock my love for Christine…please…tell me she is…alive…" He said shakily, almost in tears himself.

"Of course she is alive, boy! Do you think I would really harm her? Why should I? How could I?" He said almost amused Raoul would dare to ask such a question.

"Where is she?" Meg asked quietly, "Where is my friend?"

"She is safe…that is all you need to know…safe and very content…"

"I doubt that with my life!" Raoul yelled to him.

"My face may be hideous…and yes…I have killed…but I love Christine…more than you could ever dream of loving her yourself…"

"You don't love her…you only want her for yourself! You even had to lie to her to make her stay with you…you selfish bastard!" Raoul spat.

"Yes, I am selfish! Yes I want her all to myself…and yes…I lied…she will know of this farce soon enough…" His voice quieted and he trailed his words off as he thought about it.

"I already do, Erik…"

Erik looked up at the entrance of a tunnel, finding Christine there, fully dressed and with a cloak, light in hand. His heart dropped and he felt as if he would die right at that moment. Now she knew everything…

"Christine…" He whispered.

"No…don't…" She whispered back, visible tears making their way down her pale cheeks.

"Christine! Oh, thank god! Christine we are here!" Raoul yelled, Meg yelling after him.

She tore her gaze away from Erik's, kneeling at the edge of the hole.

"Get them out, Erik…please…" She said, not looking up at him. He stalked over to a far wall, his trembling fingers hitting an invisible switch. The floor of the hole began to rise.

Christine stood up, almost afraid to see them.

"Why Erik? Why did you lie to me?" She asked, staying still, tears streaming down her face.

"Oh, Christine…I…I couldn't bare to be without you…you were going to leave me…forever…I…had to lie to keep you…you wouldn't have chose me for yourself. And why would you?"

Raoul leaped out of the now shallow whole, embracing Christine.

"Oh my love!" He shouted with joy, taking her tear stained face in his hands kissing her lips.

Erik's heart twisted. Another spasm. The pain was great yet he remained motionless, subtly leaning on the stone behind him.

"No, Raoul…I…can't bear all this at once…I…thought you..and Meg…oh I grieved for so many days!"

"But it was all a lie, Christine!" Raoul exclaimed, lessening his grip on her.

Christine slowly walked from Raoul's embrace over to wear Erik leaned painfully on the damp stone behind him.

"How could you do this? I…gave you everything…" She whispered.

"It was the only way…I could…be with you…love you…like a normal man…"

"Just like being my angel was the only way to teach me? You talk of betrayal and yet you commit to it yourself!" She whispered to him harshly.

"I am dying, Christine…"

Her breath choked her. "What?"

"I am dying…I…I wanted a last chance of happiness and love with you Christine…"

"He's lying! Another farce to make you pity him!" Raoul shouted, putting his hands on her shoulders.

"No, Victome…this is one statement that I speak tonight that is honest…"

Christine stayed silent, staring at him with a deep sadness. Erik dying? Even after all that had happened, she did love him. To even think of him gone from her life now forever…made her tears return.

"See what pain you have caused her?" Raoul said, trying to take her in his arms.

'No, Raoul…" She whispered, coming over to Erik. "Erik…I…I didn't know…why didn't you just tell me all these things?"

"How could I? I didn't want you to stay out of pity for me…I only wanted to show you how much I loved you…hoping in return you would learn to love me…" Erik said, the pain easing in his chest.

Meg only stayed in the shadows, sad, angry and confused.

"I do love you, Erik…" She looked into his eyes. He gave a faint smile.

"Oh, Christine…don't you see how he manipulated you? How he cheated you out of a normal life?" Raoul couldn't bare the words coming from her mouth.

"Christine…" Erik said, in a most sad tone. "You may go with him…if you choose…the time you have given me…out of love…I will cherish forever…I love you so much…but…if it is he you truly want…than so be it…I cannot stop you now…"

"Come, Christine…" Raoul took her hand, and she froze.

"No…I am staying…" She whispered, not removing her eyes from him.

"Christine! Please! Do you hear what you are saying?"

"Raoul…" She turned to face him. "I love you as well…but not like I love Erik…you were my childhood playmate…you knew my father and he loved you too…but…the life you could give me…I no longer want…"

"Christine…" Raoul uttered in shock. "But…I only want you…what life can he give you down here in this damp cellar? You belong with me…in the sunlight!"

"One with passion for music…something you could never appreciate…" She replied, turning back to Erik.

"I do, Christine! I supported your career as an opera singer!"

"Yes…but what of it when were to be married? You need a wife…someone to give you an heir to all your estate…I couldn't be who I am now…and you know this…"

"So…it is finished then? Meg and I just return above and I leave you here with him?" He said angrily, the volume in his voice rising.

"Yes…" Erik said, taking Christine by the hand.

"I can't believe this…we risk our lives to save you, Christine…and this is how you repay our love for you?" Raoul cried.

"We were so worried…" Meg piped up, finally coming touch Christine's cheek.

Christine smiled at her. "There was nothing to worry about Meg…and there still isn't…go now, leave us…"

"Will I see you again?" Meg asked innocently, her heart swelling.

"Yes, you will, child…" Erik whispered looking down at her.

She embraced Christine tightly. "My friend…my sister…"

"Raoul…" Christine whispered, noticing he did not look up at her. 'Forgive me…"

He looked at her then, tears brimming at his eyes. "Goodbye…" He said short, looking away and grabbing her lantern.

She felt Erik come behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, running them down the sides of her arms. She turned her head towards Erik, leaning on his chest.

"Au revoir…" Meg whispered, following Raoul back the way they came.

Erik seemed to sigh a breath of contentment when they were lost in the darkness. The torch in the wall that he had lit still burned, casting a small glow about them.

"Oh, Erik…" She held onto him tighter, hearing his irregular heart beneath her head.

"Come, my love…let's go home…" He whispered, wrapping his arms around her.

****To be continued as soon as I update…not done with this story yet!**


	10. Unmasked

She followed him in silence down the dark corridors, he in front with the torch. She held onto his hand tightly, feeling herself tremble from all the night's events. A part of her wanted to hate Erik for what he had done…but now…to know he would go to such great and terrible lengths to have her as his own…it both frightened her and softened her heart.

When they reached the house and were inside, there was an awkward silence.

Christine drifted over to the still burning fire place, staring into it and receiving its warmth.

"Why on earth would you just not tell me what you feel? That you were ill?" She finally spoke, feeling his presence near her.

"I didn't know how, Christine…and…I was afraid that if I poured my blackened soul out to you that you would reject me…just as everyone in my whole life has done. Even if I hadn't been bold enough to take you from above…you would be married now to _him_…"

She stayed silent in agreement. She would have gone with Raoul…yet felt terribly guilty and sad after doing so.

"You are everything to me, Christine…the air I breathe! Without you…I would surely die…maybe it would have been better that way…not to draw out my suffering any longer.."

"Please…don't speak like that…" She whispered, turning to face him. His mask was removed, and she found that he had stepped closer to her. He ran an ungloved finger over her cheek, tracing it with a whisper of a touch.

"Even after all I've done to you…you stay with me? Why, Christine?" He whispered, ceasing his touch.

"I love you…" She whispered.

"Christine…" He breathed in a sigh, "I took your freedom from you…and now I want to give it back to you…"

"No! Can't you see that I want to be here?" She almost choked back a sob forming in her throat.

"You are so young…sometimes I forget…so young and naïve…"

"I am a child no longer, Erik…I am a woman…a woman who loves you…" She said almost angrily.

"Do you truly mean it?" He looked deep into her eyes, his own sunken ones gleaming with doubted hope.

She stepped closer to him, placing both her hands gently on his marred flesh. Lifting herself a bit off her feet she planted kisses on his cheeks, forehead and even the exposed skin where his nose should have been. She was no longer repulsed…in fact…his face made her love him more…not pity…but love.

"Christine…" He closed his eyes, tears threatening to spill over those golden eyes.

"Please believe me…trust in me…" She whispered, "I am your wife…and I will stay with you…"

He opened his eyes repeating, "My wife…" He bent slightly to place his lips upon hers.

"What will you do…when I am gone?"

"We will not talk of this, Erik…let us live our lives together…" She said sadly, embracing him and resting her head over his weakened heart once more.

"But…we must…I…don't have many more months, Christine…not even a year…"

"How do you know this?" She whispered, her own heart skipping beats as he spoke.

"Nadir…he brought a willing doctor down with him a few months ago…I was always ill as a child…and it seems my heart was weakened forever…"

She couldn't help but suck in a breath of air, only to hold it so that he wouldn't notice her crying. Her hands came up and clutched his shirt as if just holding him tight to her would breathe more life into him.

"Don't cry, Christine…" He sighed, a hand coming up to slide over her hair.

She let out her sob, openly crying into his chest. "Oh, Erik…"

"Shhhh…." He hushed her, continuing his caress over her blonde locks. He held her tight, feeling her body tremble with sobs. "You do care for me…"

"Yes…" She whispered, taking heavy breaths to keep from fainting.

He lifted her then, in his strong arms, making his way to her bedroom. She held onto him, not intending to ever let him go. He placed her gently on top of the sheets, easing her white hands from his shirt.

"I love you…" He said finally, caressing back her hair and wiping away fallen tears.

"I love you…" She replied, her eyes searching in the dim room for those golden specs. "Please don't leave me, Erik…it would end me…"

He gave a small laugh. "Oh my dear…I won't leave you…even if I am gone from this earth I would always be with you…in music…in your heart…"

"How can you laugh now?" She said, her voice shaking.

"You know I've always had a morbid sense of humor…I would never want you to be sad or even wish death upon yourself..for me…"

"But I would, Erik…for you…"

"Come now, Christine…you are an angel…angels don't talk of death this way…"

She swallowed another sob, sitting up in the bed. "You are an angel too…yet you talk of death so plainly…"

"For I am the angel of death, Christine…or I was…until you saved me…" He sat next to her, close on the bed. "It amazes me that you do not recoil from me when I am unmasked…" He said, helping himself to the flesh of her cheek once more.

"I was a fool for ever being afraid of you…"

"No you were not, Christine…you had every right to be afraid…and rightfully so…for I am a dangerous man…even in my weakened state…" He whispered playfully, leaning in to kiss the pulse at her neck. He felt her shiver.

"Do not mourn for me just yet, _ma petite_…Let us live together…as a normal married couple…" He continued to move his lips over her throat, up to her jaw line.

"Erik…" She breathed, her hand unconsciously coming to stroke his dark hair.

"I may be on the verge of death…but for now I am quite alive…" He whispered against her neck and ear, sending more shivers down her spine.

He took her chin in his hand , guiding her mouth to his skillfully. He layed her back upon the cool sheets, hovering over her, claiming her lips. His hand boldly slid over her cheek, down over the tops of her breast, coming to cup over one. He felt the rough feel of the fabric, knowing that beneath was soft flesh. She moaned in her throat only adding to Erik's desire, allowing him to add more pressure to their heated kiss.

He didn't take his time this hour with her, quickly shedding her clothes as well as his. He entered her without restraint, Christine clutching to his bare skin as he moved within her. Her little moans and screams sent him over the edge, allowing him to slow his pace and let her curl up next to him in the warmth of their own bodies.

After a long silence and both of their breaths were even, Erik shifted so that he lay upon Christine's breast. "You are so soft…so beautiful…" He murmured against her, a hand snaking over her waist to hold the curve of her hip. He could hear the slowing beat of her heart, finding the sound to be comforting. His living bride!

"As are you…" She whispered, her fingers tracing into the blackness that was his hair.

"I doubt you mean that…" He whispered in reply, holding on to her tighter.

"I think you are beautiful…" She smiled, closing her eyes as she kissed his head.

"Even if you are talking of inner beauty, my dear…that too is tarnished…"

"Hush…" She quieted him. "You will listen to your wife…"

"Ah…forgive me, then…" He whispered, smiling. "I must be the obedient husband…"

"Yes…and I the forgiving wife…" She said, feeling him shift again to look at her.

"That you are…" He said in a lower, sadder tone, reaching his head up to kiss her cheek.

"Sleep now, love…Tomorrow is a new day…and a big one at that…"

"Why?" She whispered, letting him settle back on her chest.

"Tomorrow, my love…I finish Don Juan Triumphant…"


	11. Home

Christine awakened, alone and cold, in her bed. She had no concept of time in this place, and only assumed it was late morning. She could hear Erik pound at the keys of the organ, a fury and passion that she dare not interrupt. Creeping slowly and sleepily from the bed, she went to the small bathroom. An inviting tub was waiting for her and it didn't take long for the water to warm. Erik always kept the water warm for her, which seemed to be a tedious task down here in the freezing vaults.

She removed the blankets she had carried with her to cover herself. She wanted to laugh at the thought of hiding from Erik. He had seen her unclothed, why should she hide now? Although it was the proper way to move about in your husband's house, there was no propriety here. Just love…passion…and music.

Sinking into the warmth of the bath, a sadness spread over her. What if Erik didn't live? What would she do? How could she live? She knew now that she did love him…He was everything to her and more! She tried to shake the thoughts from her mind, taking the sponge from water and running it along her arm. The scented soaps Erik had provided her easing her tension a bit.

There was a knock at the door and it startled her.

"Y-yes?" She said sinking further under the water.

"May I come in?" Erik said, his angelic voice muffled behind the door.

"Yes…" She said, her heart racing just in anticipation to see him.

Erik turned the knob, not opening the door all the way and slinking his thin form inside.

He noticed the warm blush that enveloped her cheeks, or was it the temperature from the water?

"I thought you were busy working…so I decided to have a bath…" She said timidly, lying her head back against the porcelain.

"I was, my love…but…I am finished…as I said I would be…" He whispered, smiling, kneeling at the tub. He gestured for her to turn around so that he may sponge her back. She did as he wanted, feeling the soft sponge and warm water instantly. She dropped her head down and took a deep breath, feeling his hand now rather than the sponge.

"What will you do now?" She asked quietly, feeling his ungloved hand run along her spine. She shivered, bringing her hands up to her arms in reply.

"Retire…" He said with a laugh.

"But you won't perform it? I mean…let the opera perform it for you? It's your life's work!" She said, now turning around to face him. His hands remained at the side of the tub.

"No, Christine…this work is not to be performed…it is very dangerous music…it is from within the very hellish depths of my soul…the dark corners of my horrible mind…and besides…do you really think the opera would perform it if they knew it was from me?" He said sternly, rising.

"They wouldn't have to know…you could submit it…anonymously…" She suggested, her heart sinking in disappointment as he stood and reached for the door. What did she want him to do for god's sakes?

"I don't think so, my dear…The only way I could get them to perform my work is to…well…threaten them as I used to do…" He said with a faint smile. "I'll leave you to your bath…"

"W-Wait, Erik…could you…hand me my towel? I am finished…" She said, not really being in the water that long.

He obeyed her, handing her the towel at a reasonable distance, as if he was now concerned with seeing her nude.

"What's the matter?" She said, standing and wrapping the fabric around her.

"Nothing, my dear…" He whispered, helping her out of the tub. "I am still not used to…being around you…this way…"

"You must get used to such, husband…" She smiled, playfully her hand still in his.

"I still can't believe…that you are mine…" He whispered, turning into her to caress her reddening cheek. He leaned forward and kissed her lips, letting go of her slowly.

She stood silently, only looking up into his eyes as he left her lips.

"Come, Christine…you'll freeze to death if you don't dry yourself soon…"

She tore her gaze away, embarrassed. He still sent that shiver down her spine…that tinge of mystery, danger…but also an adoration that she had never felt with anyone.

She let him lead her back into her bedroom. Slowly he turned and bowed his head to kiss her hand.

"Get dressed my love…I'll make you something to eat…" He whispered, letting go of her hand and leaving the room quickly, shutting the door.

"It should be me taking care of you…" She whispered in reply, though he was already half way into the kitchen.

Erik stopped amiss his cooking in the kitchen. The woman he loved, mere feet from him getting dressed in her bedroom…their bedroom. He never thought in his miserable lifetime he would have such happy and pleasurable thoughts throughout an entire day.

As soon as he had awoke, naked in her warm arms he couldn't help but render his passion elsewhere, quickly dressing and sitting down at the organ. He was going to finish this work, even if it killed him!

Alas he had finished. A mere three hours and he had completed his life's work. Ironically he thought to himself how the end of Don Juan was really the end of him. He could now die in peace…being with Christine…her loving him in return…

As he stirred the pot of porrage a new pain in his heart ate at him. I _have everything I've ever wanted…and now I am to die? What a cruel God, indeed. _

Her presence startled him, as he felt her come behind him in an embrace. He felt her slide against his back as she tiptoed up to kiss behind his ear.

"It smells delicious, Erik…please eat some with me?" She said, her arms still around him.

"Yes, perhaps a little…" He said only to please her.

The sat awkwardly at the small table, Christine hungrily spooning the meal.

"You are watching me eat, again Monsieur…" She smiled, edging his bowl towards him.

"As I've told you…it is a habit I cannot break…" He smiled in return, ignoring his bowl.

"Oh, Erik…please eat…if not for you then for me…" She said concerned.

"For you…" He said calmly, lifting the spoon to his malformed lips.

After they both had eaten Erik arose from his chair and took her empty bowl.,

"No, Erik…let me…" She stood, taking her bowl back and then taking his.

"You don't have to spoil me, Christine…" He said playfully.

"I am only trying to be a good wife…" She said in reply, placing the dishes in warm water.

She felt Erik behind her in an instant, pressing himself to her back. "You don't have to try….you are a good wife…" He said lovingly, kissing her neck.

"Erik…" She said his name, the only reply she could think of as a shiver took her.

"Christine…" He whispered, wanting to smile. "After all this time…I still make you tremble when I touch you…"

"Yes…but it isn't from fear…you…understand…" She closed her eyes, leaning back into him as he continued down to her collarbone.

"It once was…wasn't it? You must forgive me for ever frightening you…"

"It is the past, Erik…all we have now is the present…" She turned, flustered in his embrace. He still held tight to her, now pressing against her front.

"You are quite the forgiving wife, aren't you…" He said as a statement, both hands resting on her waist.

"Yes…" She said, a faint smile drawing her pink lips. "I told you…you'll always be an angel to me…"

He leaned forward in reply, claiming her lips, feeling her warm hands run up his chest, holding his cursed face. He broke the kiss suddenly.

"What's the matter?" Christine said horrified as Erik clutched his chest.

'It's nothing…" He inhaled a sharp breath, leaning against the wall.

'Sit Erik…please!" She led him to the small couch by the fire, easing him down into its cushion.

'Christine…" He said almost annoyed.

'Hush! Now lie still while I bring you some water…" She said, her eyes brimming with tears.

He sighed, the pain subsiding. She ran back into the room, pressing the cup to his lips.

"Thank you…" He said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

She sat close to him, taking his hand. Her lips trembled and her eyes watered, holding back the urge to cry.

"Are…you alright?" She finally said, swallowing a sob.

"Yes…" He opened his eyes, finding her face red and trembling. He didn't want to tell her not to cry…he knew it would upset her more.

"It happens now and again…it's gone now…don't worry…"

"How can I not worry?" She said near breathless, "Erik…I…I can't bear you sick like this…I…couldn't bear losing another person so close to my heart…"

"Christine…" He lifted her face to meet his, her eyes now spilling silent tears.

"What?" She swallowed, looking into his eyes, her voice quivering.

"I promise I won't leave you…"

"How can you promise such a thing? You cannot control when death takes you…My father…he said the same thing to me!" She said, her heart beating faster.

"Death and I have a bargain you see? I have carried out his work for many years…He won't let me die just yet…"

"Oh, why are you always so morbid? And speaking of things that do not exist! Angels, ghosts…now death himself!" She cried out, sobbing against his chest.

"You once believed in such things did you not? It was that belief that brought me to you…" He said gently, knowing Christine was very upset…he couldn't lash out on her now…not when he was so close to eternal sleep.

She nodded silently against him, her sobs making her tremble. "Erik…please don't die…" She finally choked out, her hands clutching to his shirt.

"I am here now…alive…don't cry over such things…I am here…breathing…holding you…can't you hear my heart? Feel my warmth?" He whispered to her, his one hand sliding up into her hair to comfort her.

"Yes…Yes I can hear it…I can feel you.." She trembled, taking a relieving breath and clutching to him still.

"Christine…this place…it alone can make you somber, depressed…perhaps we should…go above…" He said sweetly into her ear.

"Above? Where would we go?" She sniffed, whispering.

He rose slowly from her embrace, going over to the small desk in the corner. He picked up his keys from his pocket. Opening a secret locked compartment he drew out a file of papers.

"I…wanted this to be your wedding present…" He handed the papers to her.

She looked up at him confused, taking the papers with a trembling hand.

She scanned them quickly. "Its…a deed…"

"Yes…for my mother's house…"


	12. A New Life

"A house? A real house, Erik?" Christine asked with a smile, still scanning the documents.

"Yes…the house…I was born in…" He whispered, sitting beside her.

She looked up from the papers to catch the gold gleam of his eyes, seeing a pain behind them.

"Your mother…" Christine whispered, her eyes drifting back to the papers.

"Is long dead, Christine…she hated me…but she did leave me all her possessions and my father's land…"

"Perhaps it wasn't hate she felt for you, Erik…I am sure she did love you…"

"No…she did not love me…but I was _her_ son. She felt obligated, perhaps…on her death bed…that she at least owed me what was rightfully mine…" He got up from the couch, walking slowly to the burning fire, his arm resting on the mantle.

Christine watched him, not sure what he was feeling. She never knew with Erik. Even when he was unmasked as he was now…his expression never matched what he was feeling inside.

"Were you there…when she…"

"Yes…I was…I was amazed when I received a letter from her…She had heard rumors of a young man with a death's head helping to design this place…of course she knew right away it was me. We corresponded many times. The letters were not at all cordial or…seemingly from one's mother. She wrote to me as if I were a businessman…telling me she was quite ill…and I would have to sign documents for her if I were to obtain her property once she had passed…"

Christine involuntarily shivered. She had still not gotten used to his lack of emotion when it came to speaking of death.

"So you went to her…" Christine whispered, setting the papers aside.

"Yes…twice. Once to sign the papers and then…another to…be with her. Funny, now that I think of it…all her life she had status…money…company…and I was the only one present when she died."

"Maybe that's how she wanted to…to pass…with you by her side…" Christine stammered, knowing they were talking of a sensitive subject.

"I see so much of her in you, Christine…" He finally looked up from the flames. "She was so fragile, so innocent. She had everything…until I came into the world. Until I came into your world you also had everything…"

"That isn't true…only after you began teaching me…after I knew you did I truly become whole…" Christine whispered, a sob making it's way into her throat.

"My mother didn't love me…she tolerated me. She did everything she could to keep me alive…but…didn't care for me."

"I am not your mother, Erik…nor will I abandon you like she did…I love you…" Christine rose now from the couch coming over to him. "Please believe me…please…I am not like her at all…"

"I know, Christine…I know you feel something for me…but are you only tolerating it?"

"Erik….how can you even speak those words to me…If I were only tolerating you would I say how much I love you, kiss you…share your bed? When will you understand how much you truly mean to me?" Tears now spilt over her eyes, and she looked away, ashamed in a way of letting her emotion take over once again.

"Christine…" He pulled her into his arms, carefully wiping her tears away. "I know how much you care…how much you…love me…Perhaps it is just that I have never known love…it is all new to me…and I have never trusted anyone before…"

She clutched to his thin shirt. "Please trust me when I say that my heart…my soul is yours…"

He faintly smiled against her hair, his bare face brushing against the softness of it. "I trust you…" He whispered, pulling her back from him so that he could look into her eyes. "Now, no more tears…" He kissed one as it fell down her cheek. He tasted the salt of it, his mind wanting him to now have a taste of sweet. He lifted her chin, watching her close her eyes in anticipation for his kiss.

She was so young…much younger than him. Only a child. And because of him her world had been turned upside down. She could be married to the Victome now…happy in her large estate…perhaps even with child. A smile crossed his lips to see an image of a pregnant Christine…even more radiant and beautiful than she is now. An image he would never live to see…even if the cruel God he had loathed so much granted them a child.

He leaned down slowly, kissing her lips as if it were the first time. Softly and gently he caressed her mouth with his own. He could feel her small hands slide up his chest to rest on his shoulders.

"I don't deserve you…" He whispered against her.

"You've said that before…and I will answer the same…" She rose on her tiptoes to kiss him again, allowing him to deepen the kiss. His arms curled around her small waist, resisting the sweet urge to tangle in her long hair.

"Don't ever tire of me…" She whispered playfully, letting him interrupt her breath to take her lips again.

"Never…" He whispered, moving down to kiss the quickening pulse at her neck. He felt her shiver, giving him an odd satisfaction of making her tremble. "Come…would you like to see the house?"

She nodded, "Oh yes, Erik…please…let's go…I'll get your cloak…" She whispered, her heart leaping with excitement. Any time he took her above she cherished it. And now that they were to have a house, in the light…She couldn't contain herself.

Erik went to his room, smiling. Finally he and Christine would live as a normal wedded couple in the country. His dreams were finally coming true…but were they also coming to an end? He knew his health was failing…but getting Christine settled in a house above these cellars relieved his silent pain. _At least she would be taken care of financially…when I am gone…_

Christine came into Erik's room, the coffin now out of her sight. He had purposely disposed of it for her sake. She swung the heavy cloak around him, tying it carefully at his neck. He had just placed his mask on, made of a synthetic material, flesh colored. Most people wouldn't notice them about.

"Must you wear a mask?" She asked plainly, swirling her own cloak around her. His skillful hands came to her ties, just as she had done his.

"Yes…I don't want us to be noticed, or stared at…" He did the ties, bringing up the large hood over her blonde curls. She nodded in acceptance, taking his arm and letting him lead her above.

Once they reached the entrance of the Rue Scribe Christine could see a carriage waiting for them.

"How did you-?"

"I may not be the opera ghost any longer but I still have my connections…" He soothed, opening the door for her and escorting her inside the carriage.

"Where is the house?" She asked excitedly once they were on the road.

"Not too far from here…but an ample drive nonetheless…" He said, moving beside her.

He wrapped his arm around her and she looked up into the eyes behind the mask. It had been many weeks since she had seen him with a mask. It made her blush, just to see his eyes again…knowing his eyes could tell her so much. Adoration and love…but also rage and sadness.

She kissed him on his jaw line where the mask did not cover. "May I sleep on you?"

"Of course…" He shifted enough that she could lay comfortably on his lap, immediately bringing his hand upon her hair, smoothing it back from her face. _Mine…she is mine_…He kept reminding himself less he wake from this dream!

He began to hum an old lullaby, one he remembers from when his mother used to sing around the house. It was beautiful, yet haunting to him…His mother…

The night she died Erik had gone to her, knowing her life was near its end. He had knelt by her bed, seeing her pale aged skin, but still beautiful.

"Erik?" She said softly, not opening her eyes.

"Yes…it is, mother…" He whispered, his hand touching her cool cheek.

She opened her eyes then, finding a black mask. She smiled, "You still wear such a mask? Let me see your face once more…" She said in a whisper.

He did as she asked, taking his hat and mask off. And then she did something that she had never done. Her frail hand came up and touched his cheek.

"Forgive me…" She said, claiming forgiveness in those two words for his entire childhood.

He only nodded in response, tears threatening to spill over his eyes. He leaned down unmasked to her, planting a small kiss to her forehead. He was never allowed to touch her, to kiss her….He saw it only fair that he would be allowed to do so now.

He stayed there silent by her bedside, her hand in his. And then she was gone.

Erik snapped from his memory as the coach stopped. He looked cautiously out the window. The house stood the same, just as he remembered. He drew in a shuddering breath, looking down at Christine. _If only Mother could see you, Christine…_

"My dear, we've arrived…" He bent down to her ear whispering, easing her up to a sitting position.

She moaned sleepily, opening her eyes to look out the window.

The house was small, but two stories high. It was a little cottage, white with blue shutters. It was nothing like she had pictured. For such a horrid childhood and a cruel mother…it did not look like the birthplace of her _fantome_….

She smiled as Erik left the carriage, his gloved hand outstretched to her. She took it immediately, keeping ahold of it while they walked up the short stone path to the front door.

"Oh, Erik…it's beautiful…it's perfect…" She said in awe, looking up at the second floor's windows.

"I had hoped you would find it satisfactory…" He said, his hand trembling with the keys.

"Oh it's much more than that, Erik…I love it…" She smiled at him, causing him to laugh.

"You haven't even seen the inside yet, _ma cherie_…" He turned the key, using most of his weight to open the door. The house hadn't been used for more than 10 years…

He set the keys on a little table that appeared just inside the door. He led Christine inside, shutting the door never letting go of her hand.

The house was empty, mostly because Erik had either sold or taken the furniture and belongings with him to the opera.

Christine's smile only beamed more, turning around in the foyer to view the small stairs. She touched the banister…as if a piece of Erik's childhood were happy and she could recognize it.

"This is all yours, mademoiselle…You may do anything you like to make it your own…I will spare no expense for you…"

"Oh, Erik…it is perfect as it is…well…aside from furniture…" She laughed, wondering by herself into the little kitchen.

Erik stayed in the foyer, his eyes unwittingly drifting to the upstairs. So many nights he had either been locked in his room…or the attic…It would be hard to hide his memories from Christine…from himself.

"All this land…..it is yours?" She peered out the small kitchen window.

"Ours…yes…" He whispered, coming to walk behind her and move his hands around her waist. Her back was to him and she leaned into him.

"Thank you…" She whispered, her hand trailing up to caress the skin of his face not covered by the mask. He took her hand eagerly, kissing her palm.

"No, Christine…thank you…" He turned her in his embrace gently, keeping a hold of her waist. 'Without you…I…I would not be here…on this earth…"

"Erik…please don't talk like this…you know I hate it…" She whispered, her eyes searching for something else to focus on instead of the golden orbs that were his. After a moment of excruciating silence her eyes wondered to his.

"I mean what I say, Christine…you saved me…you are the angel…" He whispered, holding her tighter.

"I can't save you from everything…" She whispered in reply, her heart nearly breaking at the distant thought of Erik dying. She left his embrace, her arms folded. Knowing by now that Erik could sense her every feeling, she walked away from him venturing up the stairs. She wiped away the tears from her flushed cheeks. _He will not see me cry…I cannot cry!_

She could hear his footsteps follow hers quite close_. _In a moment of fear she felt his hands on her shoulders turning her to him.

"Don't hide from me, my love…what is it that troubles you so?" He said concerned, lifting her tear stained face to meet his. This only made matters worse as Christine let go of her bravery and sobbed incessantly into his chest.

"Christine…" He said in a loving tone, "I am not dead…I am alive…please…don't cry for me…please I beg you…" His hands came around her once more, caressing her hair, soothing her to the best of his abilities.

"Forgive me…I don't mean to be like this…I've always been an emotional fool…" She whispered against him, forcing a smile.

"Yes you are that…" He said with a laugh. "Come…there is a bed left…sit with me for a little while…" She nodded silently and let him lead her to the bed, his hands guiding her to sit.

"I know…in general I myself have put you through so much…and I know my failing health isn't making it any better…but we have right now…today…I am here with you…in our house…" He smoothed a fallen curl back behind her ear, finding her eyes still red. Her cheeks still flushed.

"Our house…" She repeated. Leftover tears spilt over her eyes and she wiped them with her sleeve. He reached into his pocket handing her a hankerchief.

"Yes…where we will start a new life…don't even think of anything else…" He said as gently as he could, taking her hands and kissing them.

Those simple kisses on her hand…anyone else would have taken them for granted. But she knew now that every word, every touch…every kiss from Erik was special…to be cherished and savored.

"Take your mask away, Erik…you need not wear it with me…" She asked, recovering from the chill that he had caused her when his lips touched her hands.

He silently obeyed, throwing it high on the bed.

"My Erik…" Christine whispered, sobs still choking her breath. "Kiss me…"

Silently again he obeyed, carefully leaning down to claim her lips. The desire for her was near overwhelming and his kiss became deeper, harder and more urgent. He eased her down into the mattress as if she were made of glass. His own form followed, nearly lying on top of her. His hands were in her blonde mass of waves, his lips continuing his determination to taste her.

His hand glided from her jaw down her collarbone , sliding effortlessly beneath her dress, beneath the corset and chemise…skin to skin.

She was surprised to find his touch so…warm. She had grown accustomed to his deathly chill. Perhaps it was her own flesh that warmed his so.

Erik heard a small moan escape her lips as he caressed her full breast, his lips moving over her throat down to her other breast. In one swift motion he had ripped the front of her dress. She gasped in shock, "Erik!" And a hand went over her mouth.

"Hush…I'll buy you a new one…just let me ravish you…" He said hungrily, unclasping the front of her corset. "Damn all of these contraptions…I don't want you to wear them ever again in my presence…" He untied the front of her chemise.

"Is it so you'll have better access…to me?" She giggled, her face heating as she felt the ties come apart at his hands.

"Precisely…" He said against her skin, his lips finally closing over her nipple, her other being stroked teasingly with his hand.

She arched her hips up toward him out of instinct and he groaned as their clothed forms touched. "Now, now…be patient…" He whispered with a smile, his mouth still tasting and devouring her soft flesh. He left her silken skin for a moment…only to tear the remaining clothing off of her.

Christine was now nude in front of him, slightly trembling from the chill in the air, he had hoped. He breathed now in gasps, flingling his cloak off onto the side of the bed and literally ripping his own shirt.

She giggled at this violent act of undressing, her cheeks flushed from being naked in front of him in broad daylight and then the sight of his own tortured flesh so close to hers.

He rid of all his clothes, only to wrap his wool cloak around them both.

"Erik…it's freezing…" Her voice muffled as he kissed her lips again.

"I'll make you warm…" He cooed, his hands caressing over her breasts down to her stomach, sliding over her waist and resting on her hips. His lips made the same path.

"Erik…" Christine moaned breathlessly. She could feel herself become wetter, the pulses in her body answering to his touch mercilessly.

He centered himself, not being able to wait a moment longer. He couldn't torture himself or Christine anymore.

He kissed her lips, his tongue delving into between her sweet mouth. He used no restraint, eagerly plunging into her deep and hard at that first thrust…not at all using the same gentle care he had used the first night they were together.

Christine clutched at his shoulders, her nails beginning to dig into his pale flesh.

He thrust long and hard into her, their passion and desire building to a frightening height.

"I love you…" He said softly in her ear, soon after kissing her neck as he moved within her. One hand grasped at her hip holding her to him, the other was in her hair at the back of her neck, guiding her lips to his.

A moan of pleasure was the only response she could give him, making him smile.

"Was that an 'I love you too'?" He whispered, slowing his movements but moving deeper inside her.

"Yes…" She said half drugged with the pleasure of her climax. He let her recover a bit before taking his own pleasure into account, kissing her and feeling her writhe and pulsate around him. "May I…" She whispered, her face reddening again.

"May you what my little wife…" He said playfully, gazing into her eyes as he adjusted himself to her.

Silent, she gently pushed him off of her, coming to straddle him as he pressed into the mattress. "Christine…" He said, almost in a whisper of protest….but in an instant she had slid down onto him, filling herself completely. He swallowed, his dry throat almost making him choke.

He held onto her hips as she began to move, her small but ample breasts moving as well. He closed his eyes in this new found pleasure, his hands snaking up her abdomen to cup her breasts. "Christine…Christine…" He repeated her name as she moved faster, her own pleasure building to a second mountain.

Her hands rested on his chest as she moved herself against him, her own eyes closing at the exquisite feeling.

She layed down upon him, still moving her hips, letting him kiss and lick at her nipples.

She felt him clutch at her hips with a powerful force, a grip that only let her know that he was close to his own peak.

He couldn't help but thrust his own hips upward to meet hers, the warmth of her atop of him, her wetness….everything was overpowering to his senses.

She felt him come to an end of his pleasure, slowly still moving upon him as his grip never ceased its hold on her hips.

"My god…Christine…that was…"

She silenced him with her lips, caressing his scarred cheek. "I never get to grant you pleasure…"

"Yes you do…every night…but this was…I can't even describe it…" He breathed, closing his eyes exhausted.

She layed down to hear his heart thumping wildly in his chest, feeling his arms come around her back, wrapping the cloak about them.

"I never thought…I would ever bring a wife back to this house…let alone…this.."

She smiled, "This is only the beginning…to our new life…"


	13. Afraid

A week went by and finally all of Erik's and Christine's belongings were tucked safely in their new home. No one in Paris would know where they had gone, not even Raoul…not even Nadir!

As the carriage pulled up to the Rue Scribe , Christine sat before the fire in the den of their underground home. Her cloak was tied and she slid on her gloves. It was time to leave the opera…Erik's home…forever.

"Are you ready, my love?" Erik said gently, his dark form standing in the doorway.

"Yes…" She said, a bittersweet expression on her face. She got up from the chair and turned to face him. "I feel…sad…"

"Better things await us, Christine…" He said plainly, going over to douse the remaining embers in the fire.

"But…aren't you sad too? Just a little? This was your home…for nearly twenty years…as the dorms were mine for near ten years."

"Perhaps a small ounce of regret…but to know that I am leaving with you to live as a normal man…" he got up from his kneeling position at the fire coming to his full height, "I can not be sad about that…no I am happier than I have ever been in my miserable life…" He came over to her slowly, putting his arm around her and donning her hood.

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she looked around. "Erik…this place…will we never return?"

"Afraid not, my dear…but to the opera…yes…"

"The opera?" She smiled, feeling him adjust the ties at her cloak. "But how?"

"I've fashioned a new mask…one that will fool everyone into thinking it is my face…"

"But… people will recognize me…" She said innocently, looking up to meet his eyes.

"I will make sure that doesn't happen…" He leaned into her to kiss her forehead. 'Come, Christine…let us go now…" He took her hand gently, leading her out of the house.

"Au revoir…" Christine whispered at the darkened house. A place which held so many memories for her…and Erik.

When they arrived at the house Erik helped Christine out of the carriage, then tended to a few final cases of their belongings. She turned around watching the carriage leave, knowing there was no turning back now.

Erik went upstairs first, lighting a candle and placing the cases on the guest bed. He wondered if it would ever be used.

Christine was busy downstairs, lighting candles in the small sitting area. Erik's furniture looked strange against such bright walls. Against windows that shown moonlight streaming through.

'Christine…" She heard her name whispered behind her, almost asleep in one of the chairs.

She turned to find Erik, removed of his cloak and jacket, candle in hand. "Are you ready for bed? It has been a fairly long ride here…you must be tired…"

"Yes…I am…" She confessed, taking off her gloves. He set the candle down and went to the ties of her cloak, helping the heavy fabric off of her shoulders.

"Thank you…" She said quietly.

"We'll have to dig out linens for our bed upstairs…" He said as he took her hand, his free hand holding the candle to light the venture to the second floor.

"We have our own bedroom…" She stated in a whispered, a girlish blush spreading across her face.

He led her upstairs and into the room, using the candle to light a few others. Christine gasped, finding that he had already made up the bed. Fresh linens and with rose petals! There was champage chilling and two glasses and many already lit candles.

"Erik…How did you-?" She asked excited. His response was to pick her up and lay her on the bed. She laughed as he nearly jumped on top of her on the bed. She was truly happy!

"Don't ask such questions…I told you I am a magician…I can procure many things…or make them disappear…" He whispered against her neck, trailing kisses to her throat.

She shivered, "Can you make me disappear?" She grinned fighting the urge to giggle.

"I would never do that…" he groaned against her, "But I guess I could if I really wanted to…" He smiled, the mask still in place. The familiar pressure was back in his chest. He ignored it…not wanting to give Christine any inkling of the silent pain.

"I love you…" She said suddenly, placing her hands upon his face. Gently she removed his mask, flinging it on the floor. "I wont wear corsets if you don't wear masks…"

"I won't wear one then…around you…and yes, I love you too…" He nuzzled against her neck, unable to help himself to her throat. "Sometimes I think this is all a dream…"

"No…it's real, Erik…it's real…" She whispered, caressing the marred cheek not pressed against her breast.

"Are you happy with me, Christine? Truly happy?"

"Why must you insists on asking me the same questions over and over?" She smiled, continuing her caress. "Of course, I am…don't ask me again…or…I'll punish you…"

He lifted himself then to rest on his elbow. "Punish me? How might you do such a thing?"

"I'll…sleep in the guest bed…" She said playfully.

"Then I shall only join you…in the guest bed…" He replied, running fingertips over her cheek.

"Well…then I'll just turn from you…pretend I am asleep…" She said with a smile.

"That wont hold out for long, I assure you…"

"What makes you say that?" She said now staring into his eyes a laugh at her throat.

"I would…use only my hands and my mouth to convince you otherwise…you would succumb to me…"

"No…I wouldn't…" She turned from him, her face red.

He ran his hand down her back, easing over the curve of her hip. He pressed himself gently to her so that they were flush against one another.

He pushed her curls aside to expose the pale flesh behind her ear. He planted small kisses there, feeling her shiver. He thought then that he heard a little moan escape her lips.

"Goodnight, then…" He whispered close just before he turned from her on his side.

"No…" She whispered, turning back.

"No?" He repeated, also turning his body so that they were facing one another.

"It's not fair…" She said breathless.

"What's not?"

"Your power over me…" She blushed.

The next morning Christine awoke alone, the thin sheets covering her naked body. She had a chill down her spine and sat up. "Erik?"

It was strange to wake up to sunlight streaming through the windows. The warmth enveloping the room, making it bright. "Erik?" She called again. The house was deathly silent.

She crawled out of the bed, finding her chemise and other undergarments. A small piece of her shouted for joy when she slipped a dress over her head, without a constricting corset. She hurridly went down the steps only to find Erik lying on the floor.

"Erik! Oh god…oh god!" She shook him, leaning down to hear his heart still beating and that he still took breath. "Erik…" She sobbed, picking up his head and putting it in her lap as she sat next to his seemingly lifeless body. He stirred, unmasked his eyes slowly opened. "Christine…"

'Erik…what happened…please…wake up…" She said, tears streaming down her face, her heart beating wildly.

"I…I don't remember…" He said, letting her slowly ease him up to a sitting position. "I must have gone unconconcious…"

"Oh God in heaven…" She whispered, helping him to a small couch. "You almost killed me right now…seeing you like that…Oh, Erik…you need a doctor…"

"No…I don't need anyone…anyone but you now…" He said, taking a full breath.

"But you need someone here that knows how to care for you…"

"You are all I need, Christine…" He stared up at her, his own heart shattering at her tears. He brushed them away from her eyes.

"Lie down…" She whispered, putting a pillow beneath his head.

"I'm fine now…I promise…" He said calmly.

"You are not _fine_…" She whispered, stepping away to retrieve a wet cloth from the kitchen. She put it to his temples, all over his face to soothe him. "And I don't know how to take care of you…"

He took her wrist gently stopping her. "Just love me…"

"I do love you…" She said trembling, sitting beside him on the couch. "Erik…I think you should be in bed for the day…you don't want another episode…"

He laughed, "Yes, nurse…"

"Oh…don't laugh…you always laugh at times like this…"

"It is better than crying isn't it?" His hand caressed her face and she caught it with her own hands, kissing the back of his hand and his palm.

"Just please…rest…if you love me…"

"Now that isn't fair…you know I will do anything you ask of me if it means proving my love for you…"

She gave a smile.

"Yes…smile…I want to see you happy…happy with me…"

"I am happy…" She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "And it would make me happier if you lay still for the day…I can make you some tea if you'd like?" She sniffed, wiping a lone tear away.

Erik nodded, watching Christine content in the kitchen. He had never really been taken care of…not by his mother…not by anyone.

When she returned with the tea he sat up a bit to drink some. "Thank you…" He said, his head going back to the pillow after only a few sips.

"Erik…"

"Hmmm…" He replied, his eyes closed.

"I've been thinking…what if…what if I were to be with child?"

His eyes opened and he found her kneeling beside the couch.

"I…I don't think I could give you children, Christine…deformities like mine…well…I guess you could say it's nature's way of not making the same mistake twice…"

'Oh, please…don't speak like that…"

"It's true…but…anything is possible I suppose…why do you ask?" He whispered, seeing her blush.

"We make love…all the time…" She laughed, her scarlet cheeks deepening. "It's only natural that I would be with child eventually…"

"If you were…I would love you even more than I do now…if that were possible…" He continued his whisper, searching her eyes. She gave a faint smile and looked down, her blush still evident.

"Forgive me…for talking about this with you…it is improper-"

"Nonsense…it is not improper to talk about things with your husband…especially not a topic such as this…don't be afraid to tell me things, Christine…you used to tell me everything…when I was your angel…"

"You are my angel, still…" Her hand came up to caress back his black hair. "Now…please rest…I won't bother you for a few hours…" She smiled again, pressing a kiss to his scarred cheek.

"Do you want to have children, Christine?" He suddenly asked, their faces dangerously close.

"Wouldn't you like to have a son? All men want sons…"

"You didn't answer my question…" He snickered.

"Yes, Erik…I do…I want…your child…" She blushed again.

"And what if my child…looked like me?"

"I would love him just as I love you…" She smiled, not afraid to touch the marred flesh of his face. She had memorized the scars now…

"And what of society? I don't know if I could let my child out into such a cruel world…a place that has been so very cruel to me, indeed…"

"I don't know…I don't know about any of that…but I would love him, or her…unconditionally…they would always have us…"

_But would there even be an 'us' in the near future? _

"I only pray our child has your beauty…if such a child be conceived…"

"And your talent for music, of course…" She said excitedly.

Erik smiled, an image flashing in is mind of a little boy, teaching him the violin.

"One day, my love…perhaps you will get your wish…"


	14. Into the Storm

** WOW CHAPTER 14! And it's not over yet, folks. One more chapter after this coming soon! I hope I don't disappoint on here...but this is what it is. Thanks for those who favorite and review this story. It has been a lot of fun to write. Final Chapter 15 in the works. **

A few months had passed and seasons had changed. The bitter, fall air had turned into a violent storm of wind and snow. Christine was all too eager to be locked away in her and Erik's home, with no where to go and nothing to do except be in each other's company. Erik's condition had steadily gotten worse over those short weeks, not being able to do anything that required half the energy he had before. Christine took it as an opportunity to nurse him back to health, heeding his every beck and call. She cooked all their meals, cleaned and even helped him with his bath. The light behind his eyes was dimming, and she couldn't help but think of a life without him in it.

He barely played the piano anymore but she would sing to him almost daily. When he was especially tired and fatigued she would grant him a lullaby to fall asleep to and he was all to gracious to receive it. He was in a dreamscape. A world where everything was perfect, Christine was his wife and they lived as a normal couple.

"Christine..." He whispered sleepily as he watched as his wife shuffled away from the chaise lounge to pick up his empty tea cup. Her eyes went to him and she smiled, "Yes, my husband?"

"Is this all a dream? Will you vanish when I wake up?"

Her brow furrowed and she set the cup down, kneeling beside his stretched out form. "What do you mean, _ange?_ It _is_ a dream...but it is _real _too." Her small hand reached out to caress over his unmasked cheek.

"You must hate me...for being so weak...always so weak..." He breathed, closing his eyes at her touch.

"I never will hold hate for you, Erik..." She bent to kiss his hand, delighting when he let his fingers open and splay across her skin at her cheek. "I love you..."

"We haven't..._loved _each other...in a long time it seems." He said without falter, watching with satisfaction as Christine's cheeks flustered red.

"It is because I have forbid it! How _you _must hate me!" She beamed, kissing his lips without thought. "You will get stronger in time, Erik...I know it."

He smiled for her at her request, knowing deep in his mind that he may never leave the chaise he rested upon. Damn fate and it's cursed humor! To finally have what is his and then die!

At least he was granted some ounce of happiness in these few months with Christine. With just her company he could die satisfied with life.

He leaned forward a bit and caught her lips again, her pretty head in his firm hands. Her moan of protest made him break his kiss, staring up with concern in his eyes. "What is it?", He whispered breathless.

"I don't want you to exert yourself just by kissing me! It isn't good for you..."

"Damned be to hell with that theory! _I want you_..."

"Erik..." She began her argument but his lips were already trailing at her jaw and down to her throat, caressing light against her pulse. "Erik, please..."

"Shh...let me love my wife. No more rules..."

"But...if something happened to you because of our..._activities_...Erik, I couldn't deal with that guilt."

He laughed at her serious tone, kissing her hand and each fingertip. "Christine...I would rather die with you writhing in pleasure beneath me then alone on this couch as you washed the dishes. Do you understand that?"

She nodded reluctantly.

"Good...now, undress." He hissed at her, desire flashing in his yellowed eyes.

"Erik!" She fumed, color returning to her cheeks again. That heat warmed his heart.

"You are not taking care of me, Christine...do I have to procure a replacement nursemaid?" He smirked with a teasing voice as she looked into his eyes. Her giggle broke the tensity of the air and she bent down to kiss the corner of his lips.

"Certainly not!" She smiled, "And even if you tried...you would not find a nursemaid so _obliging_ as your wife."

He flipped her about so that she was underneath his straining body, haphazardly ripping the material at her front. "Erik, please!" She protested and he clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Shhh..." He bent to kiss the delicate skin of her neck, causing a shiver up both of their spines. "It's been weeks...almost months...I want you...and when I want something ...I take it."

Her muffled cries stopped and she stared up with a smile behind her eyes. More kisses and touches, to bare skin at her throat and into her chemise. He was being gentle with her, savoring all that he had missed in those agonizing weeks.

She relaxed her muscles as he stripped them both of clothing, his hands roaming slowly over flesh.

He was nearly putting all his weight on to her, and feeling him pressed so flush to her and eventually deep inside her, she never wanted this feeling to end. His meager weight was not crushing, it was a comfort. She was safe in these arms that quivered to stroke her skin and make her ache with pleasure.

She awoke to the sound of coughing. She lay naked beneath a thin blanket still upon the chair. Erik was hunched over, though dressed, with a hand pressed to the wall for support. His head hung as his lungs convulsed.

"Erik..." She softly called to him, wrapping the blanket about her body.

He waved a hand behind him to stop her. "I'm alright, Christine...there is no need..."

Another coughing fit. She huffed her annoyance stomping up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" He breathed, his chest aching from the force of his own lungs.

"To get dressed...and then to fetch a doctor."

"Christine..." He said in his own annoyance, turning from the wall and placing himself at the spot where she had slept.

"No more, Erik...I've gone long enough abiding by your wishes for no medical attention...but I will not stand by and let your own body drown you!"

"So you are a nursemaid after all..."

"And your wife, and I love you...I must surpass these requests Erik...I must get you help."

She continued her trek up the stairs and into their bedroom, flinging open her armoire to find a dark dress that was warm enough to brace the weather.

"The snow is still storming and falling at a raptured pace, please...what will I do then if you fall ill because of me?" He called up to her from the couch.

"Erik..." She whispered to herself, dressing as fast as she could.

"And you intend to leave me here, alone?"

"You were alone most of your life before I met you, Erik...I am sure you can manage a few hours!" She called down, putting her boots on and shuffling down the stairs.

He smiled, "Listen to you, Madame Christine...I've never heard you so bold and outspoken."

"Loving and worrying about my husband can do do that, you know...you would have sent for a doctor long ago...you would have ignored any and all requests that any medicine stay away from me."

He chuckled, clearing his throat. "That is true. But I am stronger than you..."

"I can see that..." She retorted with a smirk, donning her heaviest wool cloak.

"You are going to walk into town?"

"No, I am going to walk straight to the doctor's house."

"Christine...please, I beg of you don't go out in that mess..."

"Hush!" She went and kissed him on his forehead, sliding on her gloves. He caught her wrist.

"If you aren't back in a reasonable time frame I will come out looking for you."

"Fine. Now, get some rest..." She whispered, kissing him on his lips quickly before putting up her hood and leaving him in silence.

When she returned nearly an hour later with the doctor, Erik was actually resting and heeding her warnings. Her heart warmed from the cold storm as soon as she saw him, lying there...eyes fluttering open.

"Erik...the doctor is here..." She touched his shoulder.

"My mask..." He whispered, sitting up and taking a deep breath. The coughing started again and he braced himself with a hand wrapped at the couch's arm. Her heart hitched in her throat and she fetched the mask from the upstairs closet.

The doctor was silent in his assessment, using the latest technologies to inspect Erik's body. She stood at the couch, holding Erik's hand.

"Madame, if you will..." He whispered, edging her into the kitchen.

"Yes...how...how bad is he?"

"His heart is not pumping enough blood sufficiently to his organs. There is fluid building up in his lungs. Does he cough blood often?"

"Sometimes..." She said breathlessly, swallowing and looking out to the living room where Erik rested.

"Madame, he doesn't have much time...his body is shutting down...I can give him something to help the coughing...but, for his body I can't do anything."

Her hand came to her mouth and tears were already flowing from her eyes. "Well...there...must be something!"

"No...his heart is extremely weak, madame...if his heart isn't properly functioning, well...the rest of him cannot maintain either. I'm sorry."

An impending sob caught her throat, "Thank you, doctor...for coming into the storm for him."

"You're welcome, madame...let me give you the elixir for his cough. I will come again in a few days time to see him."

As the doctor left, all Christine could do was slide down her kitchen wall and slump in a mass of sobs. Erik _was_ going to die.


	15. The Violin

Helping Erik from the bath had proved not an easy feat for Christine. His overall body strength was dwindling and it took every ounce of energy from him to step out of the tub and walk to his bedroom. He had somehow managed to climb the stairs, with Christine at his arm of course, and now only wished to be in their bed after meals and washing up. Christine quickly protested him going up stairs but was swayed when he pined for the comforts of his bed and a soft mattress. Not the couch.

One evening while she finished helping him dry and step into his fresh night clothes, an oblong box in the corner of his armoire caught her eye.

"What is in there, Erik?" She said, slipping his arm through his clothes. He looked over at the black leather casing and smiled, lowering eyes to watch her button his shirt.

"Bring it to me, I will show you..." He said in merely a whisper, setting himself down into the bed. She obeyed, skirts rustling as she went and took the case from the wooden closet. It's weight was barely nothing!

She handed it to him, sitting atop the blankets at his side as he began to open it.

"A violin?" She said with a giggle, "I should have known."

"Not just any violin, my dear girl...this one was mine when I as a child. My first one."

She didn't know whether to smile or to break out into tears. His childhood was laden with violence and sadness. A smile might not be appropriate.

_His_ smile as he took the instrument out of his velvet lining gave her a chill. Music was love to him.

"It isn't a child's violin, Erik...how could you play it?" She beamed, lying next to him and laying her ear to his heart.

"I managed quite well, actually. My mother...she wouldn't allow me to play the piano when she was present in the house. I procured this on my own and it was something she tolerated on occasion."

"Oh, I see..." She whispered, still in awe of the new beauty she found in the instrument. "My father would play violin every night for me."

Erik began to rise and put his bare feet to the floorboards, shuffling his weight uncomfortably as he tried to stand.

"Erik...no, what are you doing?" She shouted at him, her hand outstretched to catch his arm.

"I want to play for you."

Before she could protest he had already closed his eyes and placed the bow on the strings. Even with a piece of wood so full of age he could make it sing like it was never out of tune. She slumped against the headboard, immediately mesmerized by his long fingers plucking at the strings and grace of his arm sliding the bow back and forth.

Her eyes welled with tears, some streaming down her cheeks. _Oh Erik_...

The haunting melody of his song filled the house and all Christine could do was weep in her own turmoil. Everything seemed to be weighing on her mind...the numerous doctor's visits, Erik's painful attacks and breathless coughing fits... She was so young in the midst of all of this...and all she could do was wish and pray God that He would save her poor Erik...or let him go without suffering.

The words rose in her throat to tell him to stop, that standing for so long on his feet and the exertion put forth from his music would tire him and he needed to rest, but...she couldn't.

Music is what had brought them together and eventually found happiness in an otherwise miserable life. Music is what had sealed them to each other forever...and right now, in the thrall of his music again...Christine couldn't cease this beauty...not now, not ever.

She was a willing slave to it, his music...always drawing her closer to his fire and flame. Always consuming and never letting go.

After what seemed like an eternity, he ended his song, his breath leaving in sharp gasps. Gazing up and over to the bed he saw that Christine was asleep, curled up to his pillow. She was so beautiful...so good and pure. He had hardly ever deserved such a gift.

The end was nearing for him...he knew. He wasn't so blind as Christine when it came to his health. He was going to die, and soon. Who would take care of this sleeping angel in his bed? Surely his life's savings would suffice for her for the rest of her life but...how could she go on, alone in this house...with no music...no social outlets?

He could only think of one person who could care for her and make sure she lived happily and in comfort. And though his heart leaped with a new pain stabbing him in chest, it was the best for _his_ Christine and her life after he was gone.

Returning on foot from the little market right outside of the town, Christine shifted the basket of produce and breads in front of her, carrying it with eager breath to return and cook a decent meal for Erik. Her breath caught in her throat as soon as she was in view of her little house.

A brougham was outside of it, horses and their driver resting idly. They hadn't just gotten there. Christine swallowed back the lump forming in her throat, prepared to drop her groceries and run up and into the house.

"_Erik_..." She whispered in a rushed breath, heaving the heavy basket onto the little porch and forcing the door open so abrupt that she could have knocked it off it's hinges.

"Erik?" She cried out, grasping her thick skirts and pulling them up so she could move faster throughout the house.

"In the den, Christine..." She heard him call back. A sweeping of relief flooded her and she stopped only to take in a suitable breath. _Thank God._

It was only when she entered the den that her breath ceased and her heart stopped.

"Raoul?" She barely could speak. "What...what are you doing here?" She was frozen in her spot, eyeing Raoul as he stood up from his seat at first glance of her out of propriety. Erik sat at the couch. Two glasses of brandy partially sipped at a nearby table.

"I invited him here." Erik said cautiously, taking a deep breath.

"Hello, Christine..." Raoul cooed softly, moving slowly to touch her arm.

"No...no, Erik what is this? Why is he here?" She ignored the finely dressed man at her side and looked deep into her husband's eyes. His mask was replaced and she wished nothing more than to tear it from him so that he might not hide his true expressions. Tears stung painfully at her eyes.

"I called him here, Christine...about you. I...need you taken care of when I die. It is a matter I have long ignored and now I am assuring you a comfortable life."

"What?" She snapped at him, her breathing so scarce she thought she might faint. "Why...why would you do this? I don't want him to take care of me! Have you completely lost your mind, Erik?"

"Christine..." Raoul's soft voice tried to soothe in the background.

"No...no I won't let you do this, Erik..." The tears easily slid down the path's of her cheeks.

"Christine...let's be rational here...when I am gone...who will look after you? Who will make sure you have what _you _need?" His masked face tilted, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"I have been doing that for months as I take care of you, husband...do you forget that? Or am I such a lost little child without a man to hold my hand? How dare you, Erik...and how dare you Raoul of even giving in to his request!"

"Christine...this is a terrible predicament for you...let me help, please..." Raoul said, reaching now to place a kind touch at her shoulder.

"No!" She snapped out of his reach and fell at Erik's feet, grasping at the hem of his trousers.

"You know nothing! Leave my house at once!" She pointed her shaking finger towards the door, letting tears flow freely.

"Christine..." Raoul protested, his heart obviously shattered.

"Get out!" She cried, her whole body giving way to a sob as she clutched onto Erik. "Oh, Erik...how could you do this...how could you..."

"Shh...Christine, please...please understand...do you think I want to leave you without anything, or anyone? I don't want a life for you in this cold and dark house, alone...do you understand that?" He took her shoulders and brought her up to sit with him on the couch. He looked up at locked eyes with Raoul.

Raoul's heart twisted in pain to see her so adamant and affectionate with Erik. He had the chance to have Christine again as his, and that already was slipping away. Nodding to Erik and tipping his hat he left the house and climbed into his carriage.

"I love you so much, Erik..." She whispered between her sobs, grasping at his shirt as she nuzzled his neck. "Don't bind me to Raoul because of me being a woman. I can take care of myself!"

"Shh...I should have made it known to you of my intentions of such a visit from the Victome. Don't you want a content life where you will want for nothing?"

"I am already living such a life, Erik...will you never see that?" She sobbed, soaking his shirt. "I want you! I want you to live for me! I won't let death take you away...I swear it..."

He smiled, kissing her hair. "Even your angelic graces couldn't stop death, my love...I only pray that I can meet you again one day. I fear that there is a pit in hell reserved only for me."

"God, Erik stop talking like this! Do you want me to be sick with grief?" She could already feel the pounding at her temples and her body feel a chill in it's weakened state.

He held her a little tighter. "I should _like_ to take care of you, for once..."

"You _have _taken care of me, Erik...and you always will...even after..." She winced at the pain in her head and buried her face in his neck. "Oh, God ...Erik...how will I bare this torture?"

"Remember me, Christine...remember all that I taught you and the love I held so deep for you. You could live on that alone for an eternity if it held any merit in this life."

"No more, Erik...no more talk of death tonight...I only want to feel your arms around me like this and hear the music of your heart beat."

He lifted her chin up so that she could meet his masked stare. His hands were dreadfully cold.

Silently she removed his mask and tossed it on the floor. She met his lips gently, sliding her arms around his neck and caressing the thin hair of the back of his skull.

He kissed her back with a passion, parting her lips with his tongue and relishing the sweetness of her mouth upon his. His hands held tight at her small waist, caressing up to the small of her back and into the mass of dark curls at the end of her silken strands.

She couldn't contain the moan that escaped her lips, feeling Erik's hold on her grow tighter, possessive. Her tears had ceased and all she could focus on was the humming of her blood rushing in desire. His lips had moved to the hollow of her throat, kissing delicate flesh and over her bounding pulse. The pain in her head was slowly dissipating and she sighed in pleasure as his hands found the sensitive skin at her legs beneath her petticoat.

"_Erik_..." She breathed between his fervent kisses, watching as his hand came up and parted the thin gauze of her chemise and slip inside to cup her breast. Out of instinct she arched her body into his, melting at his touch and eager to claim his mouth with hers again. She was straddling him now as he pressed into the back of the chaise, hands shaking as she went beneath her skirts to free him of his clothes, his sex pressing into her inner thigh as she stroked the scars of his face.

"No, Christine...let me love you in _our_ bed..." He forced the words out, nearly numb with desire. She smiled and kissed him gently all over his face.

"Yes, my husband..."

Once upstairs Christine helped him to lay down, resuming her position atop him, teasingly untying the bindings of her dress and corset. He gave a faint smile at her little show though growing steadily impatient. As soon as her chemise and other undergarments were safely nested on the floor Erik grabbed her naked waist and yanked her to him.

"You are so beautiful...I don't deserve you..."

She ignored him, blushing furiously in her silent reply.

"Why so shy, little Christine?" He teased, watching as she timidly slid his trousers off of him.

She could only giggle, claiming his mouth closing her eyes at the feeling of their bodies pressed to each other. His hand creeped between her thighs.

"God, I want you, Christine...please..."

She couldn't help but release a small gasp of delight as he gripped at her waist and brought her upon him, filling her completely. She moved slow at first, bending down to kiss him and nuzzle at his neck. And then as the desire in both of their stares reached new heights she sought her own pleasure, crying out against him at the sheer power he could make her feel.

It wasn't long before Erik was writhing beneath her from that display, his own ecstasy bringing the most beautiful sound to her ears.

She lay next to him, feeling him immediately rest his head on her pounding heart.

"My angel...my life..." He whispered at the flesh of her breast, bringing his hand to slide over her stomach and rest at her hip.

"Forever, Erik..." She kissed his skull, closing her eyes and sleeping beneath the man who would hold her heart for the rest of her days.

"I love you..." He whispered to her before falling asleep.

"I love you too..." She whispered back with tears in her eyes, holding him tight as she felt him relax against her, his head laying comfortably at her heart.

"Sing for me, Christine..." He whispered, his breath catching in his throat, his fingers gripping at her waist.

She smiled, running her hand over his naked back and up to his face. "Right now?"

"Yes..." He breathed, closing his eyes and edging up the mattress to nuzzle into her neck.

"What would you have me sing?" She whispered, continuing her caresses.

"Anything, Christine...anything you wish..."

She closed her eyes and began to sing an old French lullaby, caressing his unmasked face feeling him relax and slump against her, his breath warm and slow on her neck. Placing a kiss to the top of his head, she let herself follow him in sleep. She dreamt of him, his music...when she first heard his angelic voice. She needed him to live...but she knew she couldn't stop God's plan for Erik or anyone. Her father had taught her that and she had believed it wholeheartedly.

Returning from the market each Sunday afternoon had been part of Christine's week just as any other wife in the town. The spring air was cool upon her face and she was happy that she didn't need her heavy woolen cloak any longer. Flowers bloomed along the road sides, scenting her way back home. It was beautiful. She couldn't help but pluck some from the ground, bunching them into her basket. She placed the basket of goods upon her hip and strode content along the pathways, finally winding and bringing her to a little field that held her and Erik's little home. As it first came into view she smiled, quickening her step eager to get inside of it's walls and prepare supper. Her heart paced a little faster when she could hear the music coming from inside.

She stopped in her path only to close her eyes and listen. The violin. How she had come to love it's awaiting sound each afternoon! Smiling all the way up to the porch she opened the door and set her purchases into the kitchen.

"Erik?" She called, emptying the basket and putting away jars of pickled produce and fruit spreads. Her voice had carried out into the den and the music stopped.

The kitchen door opened and Christine looked over with a smile.

"Yes, mama?" Erik said as he placed the violin at his side.

"Go on upstairs and wash up for dinner."

"But, mama...I want to play some more."

"After supper, darling." She said with a smile coming over to him and kissing his dark hair. "Go on..."

Placing the violin and bow on the kitchen table, Erik ran through the double doors and up the stairs without another word. Christine's eyes couldn't help but gaze down at the instrument lying idle and silent. She touched the dark wood, the strings...closing her eyes. Her Erik had been gone for nearly six years.

Swallowing dryly and pushing back pending tears she took a deep breath and left the table.

In some way she hoped that Erik was watching over her and his son, granting them an otherwise blissful life without him.

Little Erik's stomping feet brought her out of the memory and she sniffed and turned away from his view, finding a knife to cut up vegetables for a soup. Their dinner was quiet, Christine encouraging her little boy to eat more carrots and stop sloshing them around in his bowl, assuring him there would be no music unless he ate a proper dinner. He soon acquiesced, sipping graciously from the bowl itself forgoing the spoon.

"Erik! Please!" She wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Now may I play the violin?" He said with a smirk.

She sighed heavily and then smiled, "I suppose...".

She watched as he leapt from the table taking the instrument from it's leather casing and drawing the bow over the strings immediately. A chill enveloped her entire body and she couldn't help but succumb to the sound. It was if Erik, her Erik...was here.

An hour passed and it was growing dark and chilled outside. Lighting a few lanterns she and Erik went upstairs to bed. She pulled fresh nightclothes from his armoire and helped him into them, tucking him tight into his bed and shutting his window.

"Mama...sing for me."

She smiled, sitting next to him on the bed caressing back his short black hair from his perfect face. "What would you have me sing?"

"Anything, mama...anything you wish."

A/N:**This is it people! I am sorry for breaking my promise and letting our dear, dear Erik go. But it had to be done. I hope everyone liked this story that has read it and hopefully I can post some of my other stuff soon. Thanks for your kind reviews!**


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